


The Fool On The Hill

by Aramirandme81



Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Blood, Domestic Violence, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Feels, Family Secrets, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, On Hiatus, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 09:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 56,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aramirandme81/pseuds/Aramirandme81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic is a response to this challenge: http://almighty-kink.livejournal.com/820.html?thread=233524#t233524<br/>Basically: The God hunters still have files on Anders. They watch him but he doesn’t get in contact with any other potential gods, because everyone is pissed with him (for sleeping with Gaia, working for Colin and such), so they lose patience and kidnap him so they can get the info straight from him.<br/>Anders endures what they throw at him and stay silent. He manages to escape, and finds himself in hospital where Michelle inadvertently lets him know that no one even knew he was missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All the lonely people…

**Author's Note:**

> While this might start out slow, there WILL be violence and torture ahead. If that triggers you consider yourself warned. Though I will also post warning notes at the beginning of those chapters (if I remember it)

Our dead are never dead to us,  
Until we have forgotten them.  
\- George Eliot  
*****

 

Anders asks for Michelle as soon as he enters the hospital.

With what he’s gone through and how he looks there is bound to be questions he can’t answer to a civilian, so yeah Michelle is his best option. Plus she can let Mike know that he can call of the search.

Michelle just stares at him with her usual look of disinterest when she enters, but at least she goes straight into treatment and doesn’t bitch about the fact that Anders smells of stale rain water and other not so nice things. 

“So I’m curious, how did they block Ullr tracking powers? Because it took me a while to find the way out of there and there wasn’t a living plant in sight, much less parsley.” Anders says voice slightly hoarse and tries not to wince as he readjust his weight on the gurney he’s been sitting on for the last ten minutes as the worried looking nurse had gone to look for Michelle. 

Michelle gives him a funny look as if he’d been speaking in tongues instead of English.

“Mike haven’t used his powers for anything for at least a week.” Michelle says unwinding the makeshift bandages on Anders’s left wrist, causing the wound to reopen. Frowning in distaste at the sight of the torn and inflamed skin, Michelle asks: “How’d you manage to do this to both your wrists?”

Anders is still caught up in her first words and so doesn’t answer her question.

“What?! He didn’t try to use his powers to find me?”

“No. Why should he, he could just call you if he’d wanted you.” Michelle says as she examines the wrist. “This will require stitching Anders. If the other one is the same she must have been a pretty wild ride, and juding from the scratch marks on your neck I’d say she was. Or was it a he?” 

“But I… Didn’t he wonder why I never picked up?” Anders asks, not able to believe that Mike hadn’t looked for him.

Michelle sighs and starts cleansing the wound. 

“Well no, but then he didn’t call you so how should he know you’d lost your phone, but he could have just called your office if he’d wanted to talk to you. So no, no one called or looked for you. Now sit still will you?”

Anders sits still and silent for the rest of the treatment, only moving when Michelle tells him to. It’s so unlike Anders that it’s starting to unnerve her a little.

“There, clean. I’ll stitch this and you’ll have to keep it clean and not use your wrists so much. Guess you’ll be missing your morning exercise the next week or two. Now anywhere else need tending before I get the needle and treat?”

“I…”

“If the words: Thigh, bum, arse, balls, cock, penis or anything like it comes out of your mouth I’ll amputate your manhood right on the spot. Mind you I’m no micro surgeon but I’ll give it a go.” Michelle interrupts him and gives him a sweet smile that is way more frightening than any evil grin could ever be.

Anders seems to think about it, but in the end just shakes his head and slides down from the examination table, only to collapse in a heap when his legs buckle under him.

Michelle rolls her eyes at the stubbornness of men. 

“Very convincing Anders. Now are you going to tell me where you’re hurt?”

Anders just sits there on the floor looking at his legs as if they hold the key to some secret.

“Anders don’t be so melodramatic, you’ve hardly lost the ability to walk since you came in here. Now get up, I’m not bending over so you can sneak a peek at my breasts or cop a feel.”

But Anders doesn’t react, if anything he seems to become more distant and still, as if someone was whispering just outside his hearing range and he was trying to hear it.

When Michelle touches him lightly on his shoulder he flinches so violently that he manages to bang his head on the gurney hard enough to reopen a gash on his temple. 

“Jesus Anders.” Michelle exclaims and frowns when Anders starts sprouting apologies for being clumsy and jumpy, hands shaking like a junkie in withdrawal. 

“I’m sorry, I just slipped, I’m sorry, so sorry. I… I just, I won’t do it again, I just… sorry.”

Really worried now, Michelle crouches down in front of Anders and for the first time since coming into the treatment room Really looks at Anders as her patient and not the annoying relative of her boyfriend.   
He’s pale, except for a slight flush to his face that could have been embarrassment with anyone else, but with Anders she’s pretty sure it’s a fever. A quick ‘hand on forehead’ test confirms it. 

“You are burning up, and your pupils are dilated. Are you on any drugs?” She wouldn’t put it past Anders to have been drugged up and have a sex game go bad, which would explain both the fever and to some extend the bruising… but no the wrists had been really bad, they would have bleed a lot at some point and now that’s she’s looking she can see much more extensive bruises and scrapes on pretty much every exposed piece of skin than she first realized. So it’s properly not a sex game gone wrong then, unless Anders is even kinkier than Colin, and, yes well... Michelle is NOT prepared to let her mind go there. 

Anders shakes his head, and his breath hitches.

“What?”

“My… my neck hurts?” The way he sounds uncertain rubs Michelle as just plain wrong. Anders is an asshole, a self-assured little prick that is never ever in doubt of the fact that he is right, even when he is wrong. A simple thing like where he hurts should not make him sound unsure.

“Come on, let’s get you up on the gurney, and I can get a better look, okay?”

“Okay.”

She gets a firm hold of his arms and helps him up, and becomes even more worried than she already was when Anders merely hold onto her arms and doesn’t use the opportunity to so much as ghost his hands along her body, he’s also much lighter than he should be. 

Having gotten Anders back onto the gurney , Michelle takes a step back and put’s on her professional face. “Okay Anders, let’s start over: What happened and where does it hurt?”


	2. Help!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders tells Michele some of what's happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence ahead! Also references to non-con. Ye' have been warned.

Man’s enemies are not demons, but human beings like himself.  
-Lao tzu

 

**Four hours earlier**

Anders is tired.

So, so tired. 

But he keeps stumbling along at a reckless pace.

He has to get away.

He aches in places he hasn’t since dad shot through when he was fourteen. He’s covered in a thick layer of sweat, filth and blood from his many wounds. He hasn’t had a bath in … Anders is slightly worried to note that he doesn’t know the exact number of days he had been held there… in that place.

The way they always tell stuff like that in the movies is either:

By light: There were no windows in the room he’d been kept in, nor were there any light filtering in through the heavy door. 

The number of meals and toilet breaks: They had hardly feed him at all, let alone with any regularity. And there was a bucket in the corner just within the reach of his chains that had been a stand in for a toilet.

Or by the growth of his stubble: One on them, Math, was extremely fond of knives and every so often he had come in and given Anders a good old fashioned knife shave, stubble or no. Anders suspected it was partly to keep him of balance and partly because the man got a serious hard on from the power he’d wielded with a blade at Anders’s throat. Either way it had worked. Anders was man enough to admit that he’d been more than a little scared that the man would tire of his games and simply slid his throat.

Despite being without these methods Anders knows that it was closer to being weeks than days that he’d been there. A fact which worries him more than he cares to admit. Even if the police couldn’t find him, Ullr should have found him a long time ago. Unless… Anders shudders to think it, unless something had happened to Mike as well.

 

The thought makes him lose focus for a second and he stumbles into a tree, managing to knock what little wind he still had in his lungs out.

‘Just a second to catch my breath, then of again. I have to keep moving.’ He thinks and runs a hand down his face to remove some of the sweat that has gathered there.

His hand comes away bloody and he curses under his breath.

The wound on his temple must have reopened in his wild dash through the foliage. At the rate he’s going, dripping blood, trampling the undergrowth and breaking branches, he’s leaving a trail that even Axl could follow, much less a bunch of angry god hunters. 

He’s slow in catching his breath, even accounting for his bruised rips (they are just bruised, he refuses to believe that the grating he feels comes from broken bones shifting), and silently he vows that if he makes it out of this mess he’ll start exercising at least twice a week instead of twice a month. “Fuck you Ty for being right.” He mutters and swallows gingerly so as not to aggravate the wound in his cheek and tongue. 

Of all the wounds on his body, these are the only ones that were self-inflicted.

 

*******Flashback********

“Talk you bastard.” The man growls and blows on his bruised knuckles. Said knuckles having been bruised in beating the very breath Anders would have needed to talk out of his body.

Anders can only cough and gasp as the man grabs him by the lining of his pants, the panic that fills him at that particular hold, lessens as he’s hauled up into a kneeling position. 

Unfortunately for Anders, the second man in the room sees his reaction, and since he is the one that usually initiates that particular form of torture he’s quick to make the connection. 

“Oh no pretty boy, Mark here doesn’t swing that way, he just wants you to talk not scream.” The man Anders knows as Luke rises from the chair he’s been sitting on and saunters up to Anders, where he leans down and runs a hand through Anders’s mattered curls in a mock of a cares. “Me on the other hand…” He tangles his fingers in Anders’ hair and yanks his head back. “Me I like to hear that pretty voice of yours as it breaks on a scream. Should we try that, see if that’s what you need to get you talking? A little warm-up of your vocal cords?”

Anders gathers what moisture he has in his mouth and spits at Luke.

He hits him right in the eye, and Anders allows himself to feel a brief moment of satisfaction, before he curls as far in on himself as he can for what he knows will come next.

 

Sure enough Luke bellows with rage and all but throws Anders down to the ground where he proceeds to kick the living daylights out of him.

This is the moment Anders knows, he’s watched his keepers at every opportunity, assessing who could be reasoned with and who was a lost cause, who would beat him with glee in their eyes and who would pull their punches in distaste of the violence. 

While Luke is an evil bastard in every way of the word Anders can think of, Mark is not. Mark he finds, have a solid punch that will leave his ears ringing several minutes after it fell, but he hits to get answers for his cause, not because he enjoys the act of violence. He always stops when Anders starts to get so beat up that there is no chance of getting anything useful out of him. Plus he is the only one that will check Anders over to see what damages he’s done after a ‘session’. 

Anders is betting on Mark having enough of a conscious or at least enough practicality to stop Luke if it looks like it getting lethal. With that hope in mind, Anders bites down hard twice, catching his inner cheek and his tongue making them bleed. He manages to hold his breath and let the blood accumulate in his mouth through the next few kicks and then unfurls just enough that Luke’s next kick catches him in the ribs. 

“Argh!” Anders screams and spits the blood out. Okay that really fucking hurt! But the plan seems to be working because Mark has shoved Luke away.

“That’s enough. You’ll kill him if you don’t stop.”

“He’s fucking demon spawn, he deserves to die!”

“He will face judgement soon enough. For now we need him alive and able to talk. Now get him onto the chair, and then go get the med kit. We’ll need to bind those ribs at the very least if we want him to be alive and able to talk.”

“But…” 

“Now, Luke. I’ll go tell the others your of the results of your ‘enthusiasm.’ This could set us back several days you know. ”

Mark leaves and Luke grumbles as he walks back towards Anders. 

“Stupid piece of shit, I’m going to get in trouble all because of you. Fucking… Ahrrrrr!” Luke had kicked out wanting to get one more kick in in a show of defiance. But Anders had counted on him doing just that, so he’d been ready and graphed the foot as it came towards him, using his momentum to twist it with all his might, resulting in Luke going down with a scream as a sickening crunch is heard from his ankle.

Moving with speed born of adrenalin, rage and no little amount of fear, Anders I quick to get up from the floor, only winching as his whole body protests his every breath and movement (he’s gotten good at ignoring his body since he came her) get the keys to his chains from a whimpering Luke whom he silences with one almighty kick to the head. 

“Wimp.” Anders mutters as he throws of the hated chains and uses them to tie up Luke so he can’t follow him and makes a run for the door.

 

***End Flashback***

 

Anders winces as his ribs give a twinge as if in remembrance. 

“You got out, now you just have to get away.” He mumbles, pushes of the three and starts jogging along again. 

If he could only find a road he could find a car to flag down. He’d taken of in a straight line as soon as he’d been out of the cellar of the old farm house he’s been kept in, and since that had been the backdoor he’d headed away from the road. If he doesn’t find signs of human habitation soon he’ll have to double back to find and follow that road, which he fervently hopes he can avoid or he’ll be caught again for sure.

 

Half an hour later he crashes out of the underbrush and into the cleared yard of a farm house.

Anders is weary of going up to the door. They could be associated with the God hunters that had taken him, and he’d be back in that hole again before he’d know it. But he’s not really fit to go on much further, and even now his conscious won’t let him simply steal the truck that’s parked in the drive, so he decides to take the chance. If nothing else he feels Bragi’s presence more strongly than he had in that place, so the god might be able to help him persuade who ever answers the door to help him.

Though why the god had been so silent when he’d needed him most was still a mystery to Anders.

 

**** Back to now****

 

“Luckily it was an elderly couple that insisted on driving me to hospital themselves. All I did was ask them to make it this hospital, I didn’t need Bragi at all.”

Michele looks at Anders with wide eyes as he finishes the tale of his escape, though she can tell there is even more to know than he’s told her so far.

“You…” Michele has to swallow around the lump in her throat and start over again. “You were held by god hunters?”

Anders nods and fiddles with the paper sheets that cover the gurney. 

“When were you taken?”

It’s Anders turn to frown as he thinks back.

“The last thing I remember with any kind of certainty to the date is going home from work two days after Colin’s second press conference. I remember inserting the key in the lock, but nothing after that until I woke up in that place.”

“I saw that conference. But that was… Anders that means they had you for twelve days! How, how…?” 

“Am I even alive?” Anders asked and scoffed. “They didn’t kill me because they wanted to know what I knew about other gods and goddesses. Said they wanted to help ‘free us of the evil burden we carried’, yeah like they freed Helen? No way was I going to tell them how to find any of you.” Anders tears the piece of paper sheet he is clutching to pieces, breath coming in angry little bursts that sound laboured to Michele’s professional ear.

Licking his lips he continues. 

“It wasn’t hard to figure out that as long as they had a use for me they’d keep me alive. Plus I’d figured I’d only have to hold out for a day or two, four at the most before it would be Ullr to the rescue.” Anders lowers his head even more and blinks rapidly. “Guess I figured wrong.” He finishes and once again he seems to disappear inward.

Michele finds that she’s quietly tearing up as Anders tell his tale, both at the things he says and the things he notably leaves unsaid. Wiping away any traitorous moisture with an angry hand, she stands and walks carefully towards Anders. 

Gently touching his chin with just one figure she lifts his head and holds it there until he looks up and meets her gaze.

“We are going to move you to a wash room so you can get cleaned and I can take full stock of your injuries. We are going to take some blood so we can test you for infections, treat what we can here, then I’ll get you some scrubs to wear as we go to my place and I’ll use The Stick to help you as much as I can okay?”

Anders just gave a nod, he seemed to not quite grasp that this was really Michele saying these things.

“Okay.” He finally said, and let Michele help him into the shower room.

 

As she stood outside the curtain, ready to intervene should she be needed she mumbled to herself, eyes ablaze. 

“And after that, I’ll be having a little chat with the rest of the Johnsons.”


	3. I saw the news today oh boy...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there will be phone calls and apple trees.

Never awake me when you have good news to announce, because with good news nothing presses;  
But when you have bad news, arouse me immediately, for then there is not an instant to be lost.  
\- Napoleon Bonaparte

 

 

Olaf is walking through an orchard.  
The apple trees are all in different stages of life. Some are strong and bearing multiple fruits, some mere saplings just about to unfold their firs leaves, and some close to toppling over with age or even decaying on the ground.

It would be a place of beauty and tranquillity if not for the sound of weeping. 

Olaf follows the sound and comes into a small clearing, where a young woman is kneeling before a slender young tree. 

The weeping noise intensifies as she reaches out and caresses the trees bark. 

”Hví vili hann eigi gróa? Hann súlde vera grønn, eigi mista sinn laufsblad!” The young woman laments and glancing over her shoulder at Olaf asks: “Hví?”

“Gaia?” But even as Olaf says it he knows he is wrong, this is not Gaia, this is: “Idunn.”

Idunn shifts her gaze back to the tree. Olaf follows her gaze and now that he is closer he can see that it’s not as young a tree as he first though. It merely looks that way because it’s been ruthlessly trimmed, leaving only a bare minimum of branches thick enough to bear fruit. 

As Idunn lifts her hand of the bark, strings of sickly reddish golden liquid cling to her palm and drips down her slender fingers. Idunn gasps and in a despairing voice cries: “Hann er sótt! Sótt, eóa ek mega eigi hjálpa ham einn. Hjálpa mek!”

 

“Olaf. Olaf baby your phone is ringing.”

Olaf blinks, wakefulness coming slowly.

“What?”

“You phone it’s… oh never mind I’ll get it for you. Hello’ Stacy speaking. Axl, what can I do for you?”

 

***An Hour Earlier***

It ‘doesn’t quite work out as Michele planed.

Moments after her muttered promise to ‘have a little talk’ with the Johnsons, Anders gives a startled little yell from behind the curtain and she has to rush in and catch him before his legs give out on him again. She doesn’t make it in time so they both take a tumble onto the wet floor. 

For just a second Michele finds her irritation flashing, but as she shifts to look Anders in the face she can see his eyes are closed and moving like he’s in REM, his entire body starts to twitch like he’s being electrocuted and a pinkish foam is leaking out the sides of his mouth.

“Shit! Anders, Anders! Help, I need some help in here!”

 

****

 

The notes of ‘Bad To The Bone’ sound out over the noise of hammering and sawing.

“Axl hold it for a second I’ve got to get the phone.” Mike turns of the power saw and reaches for his phone.

“Hello?”

“Mikkel!” 

Mike groans. 

“What do you want Colin?”

“Well a little respect would be nice, but since you don’t seem to know what that is I’ll settle for my campaign manager.”

“What?”

“Bragi, I have need of his bullshit selling ability. Now the lovely Dawn tells me she called you last week and was informed he was needed for ‘family business’, now I know you Johnsons aren’t the quickest lot, but a week must be enough for whatever you have him doing, plus I’m actually paying for his services so I should have first rights to him… wait that came out wrong, I’m very much a heterosexual and I’ve no need to pay for that kind of services.. though your brother does have the ass for it. I…”

Mike interrupted. “Colin I have no idea what you are talking about and I haven’t seen Anders for days. Now I’ve got real things to do so find him yourself.”

“You can’t hang up on me I’m.” *click*

“Wanker.” Mike mutters and pockets his phone.

Axl looks at Mike with a grin on his face.

“Did you just hang up on Loki?”

“Yep.”

“I’m a little bit impressed with you now.”

“Why thank you my lord Odin, I aim to please.”

“What did he want anyway?”

“He couldn’t find Anders. Looks like our brother, is avoiding his candidate.”

“Yeah well I’d do a runner to if I had to work with that jerk.”

“It’s not fair on Dawn.” Mike says and takes a swing of his bottled water, and nearly snorts it out his nose as Axl grins and answers: “No, but she’s work with him for years. I’m sure she can use the break.”  
Mike smiles, puts the bottle down and turns the power saw back on.

 

The two of them work on in companionable silence, for about five minutes before Mike’s mobile rings again.

“I don’t believe it. If it’s Colin again I’m hanging up straight away.” He mutters as turns of the saw and motions for Axl to take a break. “Hello?”

“Mike.” The voice on the other end of the line is small and it takes Mike a minute to recognise it.

“Michele? Michele what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No I’m fine, but Mike you need to come to the hospital.”

“I’m at work, if you are fine can’t it wait?”

“It’s Anders.”

Mike sighs.

“Of course it is. What has the little idiot done now?”

Axl frowns and mouths: ‘Anders?’

Mike gives a nod.

“Mike I need you to come now. And I need you to bring the stick.”

“The stick…?”

Axl, having eavesdropped, gives Mike a questioning look.

“Look Mike you need to bring the stick here right away. And you’ll want to call the others.”

“You are starting to worry me here. Can’t you just tell me over the phone?”

“He’s in a surgery Mike.”

“…” Mike swallows to wet his suddenly dry mouth.

“We’ll be right there.”

Axl stars at Mike with confusion.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m going to get the stick and go to the hospital. You are going to call the other and tell them to come as well.”

“What? Why?”

“Anders is in surgery.”

“Fuck.”

“Yes I know, so get moving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I have not seen any episode after 3:06 this fic will not follow the shows canon after that episode, so from now on you may consider this as an AU.  
> Also I apologise for the short chapter, but it decided it wanted to be difficult before finally submitting. The next will hopefully be longer.
> 
>  
> 
> Translation of Old Nordic:  
> Hví vili hann eigi gróa? Hann súlde vera grønn, eigi mista sinn laufsblad!  
> \- Why won’t he grow? He should be green, not losing his leaves! 
> 
> Hann er sótt! Sótt, eóa ek mega eigi hjálpa ham einn. Hjálpa mek!  
> \- He is sick! Sick, and I don’t have the power to help him alone! Help me!


	4. I’ll Cry Instead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michele has something to say, so you better listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence ahoy! (I won't go into what kind as that would spoil all the 'fun’.  
> Also, this was (once again) done on little sleep, but hey; it's also much longer than the last chapter.  
> Oh and as always: reviews not only help me better myself, they also make me update faster. ;-)

I think illness is a family journey, no matter what the outcome.  
Everybody has to be allowed to process it and mourn and deal with it in their own way.  
\- Marcia Wallace.

 

******

 

They trickle in to the hospital like raindrops down a window, a vision of sadness that has fallen from the clouds and been brought down to earth’s harsh reality by the forces of nature. 

A kindly nurse show them to the family waiting room, where the silence reign supreme as no one knows just what has happened or how it happened. All they know is that Anders is somewhere behind the doors marked: Surgical Staff Only. 

They have been there for nearly half an hour when Michele finally makes an appearance. 

She looks exhausted, hair coming out of its ties, pale with blood smeared in uneven patterns over her scrubs and one or two tiny spots on her arm where she’s missed it as she’d washed in a hurry. She does however also look more than mildly pissed. She looks at the people assembled, turns to the door which she locks behind her, takes a deep breath... and let’s them have it.

“What the hell were you thinking?!?”

Everyone jumps at her angry question.

“Us?” Mike says. “None of us did anything to Anders.”

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t do anything.” Michele says folding her arms across her chest. “You just went back to your own little lives and forgot everything else. You should have acted like a family!”

“You’ve lost me.” Mike says and shifts his grip on the branch of Yggdrasil. 

“You should have noticed he was missing. Twelve days he was gone, and no one even knew.”

“I thought he’d had an accident? Isn’t that what you said Axl?” Ty asks, also clearly not following.

Axl shrugs. 

“Mike said he was in surgery, I just assumed it had been an accident. But I can’t see what we could have done to prevent it if it happened well over a week ago… and why are we just hearing about it now?” He’s used to being confused by god business by now, but this conversation takes the cake and it’s not even about god business. At least he thinks it’s not.

 

The glare Michele sends him makes even the Odin part of him shrink back, though the glare has nothing on the north wind voice she delivers her next words in: “There is nothing accidental about being hit in the head until your brain starts swelling from the trauma.”

***** 

“Talk you bastard.” The man growls and blows on his bruised knuckles. Said knuckles having been bruised in beating the very breath Anders would have needed to talk out of his body. Anders can only cough and gasp as the man grabs him by the lining of his pants, the panic that fills him at that particular hold, lessens as he’s hauled up into a kneeling position. 

*****

“There is nothing accidental about being kicked repeatedly in the ribs until they break and perforate your lung.”

***** 

Anders gathers what moisture he has in his mouth and spits at Luke.

He hits him right in the eye, and Anders allows himself to feel a brief moment of satisfaction, before he curls as far in on himself as he can for what he knows will come next.

Sure enough Luke bellows with rage and all but throws Anders down to the ground where he proceeds to kick the living daylights out of him.

“Argh!” Anders screams and spits out blood. 

***** 

“There is nothing accidental about being whipped until the wounds are deep enough to expose bone.”

***** 

“Repent!”

‘Crack.’

“Aaargh!”

“Forsake the ways of evil, and join the light that is the one true God!”

‘Crack.’

“Nnneaaa! *sob* Please…”

“Repent and be released of the demon within!”

‘Crack.’ 

“Aaaaaaaaaaa! Please… *cough*… please stop. ”

“Repent!” 

‘Crack.’

“Aaaaargggh… no nooo *sob* please.”

‘Crack.’ ‘Crack.’ ‘Crack.’

“REPENT!”

*****

“There is nothing accidental about someone carving bible quotes into your skin.”

***** 

Anders flinches away as Math draws his knife.

“Not in the mood for a shave Anders? That’s alright. I’m sure we can find other ways to amuse our self.” Math smiles and caresses Anders cheek with blade of his knife.

Anders sit’s as if frozen, afraid of doing anything to provoke the man.

“Do you know what I do for a living Anders? When I’m not hunting unholy abominations like you?”

Anders swallows and wets his dry lips.

“I make religious sculptures. I carve them out of stone and wood, bringing out the beauty God has placed in the raw materials. I build them from what I find on the side of the road! My talent is a gift straight from God. I use my tools to make the wold a more holy place.” Math’s smile is wide with pride at his accomplishments. 

Math licks his lips and moves the blade downwards. Letting it caress his bare skin as it moves first down his neck, then slowly down over his chest, letting it nick the spot just above his left nipple so a few bright reed drops appear before they drop onto the peeking nub. Using the broad side of the blade he delicately smears the blood around the areola evenly.

“I carve God into what was once filthy and worthless, making it pure and useful.” He says as he lets the blade travel further down Anders body, until it comes to rest at the top of his boxers.

Math’s smile is more than slightly manic and his pupils blown wide when he leans in to whisper in Anders ear.

“Let’s see if I can make you pure Anders. Do you have a favourite quote?”

Anders blinks and wet his lips.

“First do no harm?” He ask, desperately hoping to get out of this.

Math lets out a hoarse chuckle.

“Very funny Anders. But no, how about we start with: ‘You shall have no other gods before me.’ And work our way from there. Now keep still, we wouldn’t want to make mistakes now would we?”

 

***** 

 

“There is nothing accidental about tying a man down and …” Michele swallows, unprepared to let that last part pass her lips. Let Anders have a little dignity. That, at least, should be his to share or keep hidden from everyone else.

“The only thing those bastards did that was accidental was that the salt they rubbed into his wounds helped prevent infection from setting into most of them!” Michele growls and has to visibly rain herself in before she lunges at one of the Johnsons to sate her blood lust.

 

“Oh Jesus.” Ty sits down hard on the stole that was luckily behind him, head down between his knees or he’ll see his lunch again.

“What … what?” Axl asks, his brain rebelling at what his ears is telling it. 

Olaf hides his head in his hands and mumbles words of denial.

Stacey leans into Olaf and runs her hands up and down his arms in a soothing gesture, looking at Michele to make sure that this is real and not the world’s worst joke. 

“Oh no.” Ingrid’s hand fly to her face, and the tears that had gathered in her eyes as Michele had spoken falls. 

Mike uses the stick of Yggdrasil to help keep him on his feet, as the weight of responsibility he’s always felt for his family settles in. 

“Will… will he make it?” Axl asks. He might still harbour angry and hurt feelings towards Anders because of the whole Gaia/Idun thing, but he didn’t want him to die.

Michele sighs.

“I don’t know. We have seen Yggdrasil help close wounds, heal fevers and it cured you that time. We also know that Yggdrasil can bring people back from the dead if they have only just died. Not that that is what I think will happen.” She hastily adds as the Johnsons all tense up. “But I can’t for obvious reasons barge into the surgical theatre wielding this thing. I mean, sure I can turn a head or two and momentarily misdirect them, but for true influence on the mind we would need Bragi. And before you ask, no I can’t just wade in, heal him, and then have him put the whammy on them as he wakes up. There is very strict security on the surgical floor. Plus the state he was in meant that one of my colleagues called the cops as soon as we had him stabilized enough to hand over to the surgical team.”

She steels herself to deliver the rest of the scolding she’s been aching to give since Anders first started talking about what happened. 

“He shouldn’t even be here. And if you lot had acted like a family, or at the very least like friends then he wouldn’t be. We know that more and more weird shit has been happening. We know that there are other pantheons of god’s out there. Who’s to say that they are all as friendly as the Maori? Or as harmless? Or if you want to get even closer to home, let’s take Colin. We know he tried to murder Ty and that he properly did murder Freya, yet no one thinks to look in on Anders when he’s working with him?”

Mike straightens up at that.

“Wait, are you saying that Colin did this?”

“But that can’t be, he called you right before Michele did, asking where Anders was.” Axl spoke up from his seat beside Ty, who was still looking more Vulcan than human.

“Well he could have done that just to throw us of the trail.” Mike interjected. 

“But he didn’t Mike. It wasn’t Colin, not this time.” Michele said. 

“Then who?” Ty asked, the angry dark aura he emitted making it look every bit as if Hod had taken up residence in his body again.

“God hunters.”

“Shit.” Axl cursed and leaned back against the wall.

“I thought we took care of those?” Ingrid said.

“We knew there were more than the group we confronted and took care of. We should have kept our guard up after that not let it down.” Mike said. 

Michele gave a nod of agreement. 

“They obviously had more files than what we took from that place. If nothing else we knew they had files on Anders. Making him a clear target.” 

“We should have protected him not ignored him.” Ty said, and got up to pace.

The other Johnsons made a sound of shameful agreement.

“It’s all our fault’s, even ours.” Michele says, indicating the goddesses. “Stacey and I are both involved with one of you lot, and Ingrid shares a flat with Axl. We could have been more attentive. Instead as we went about our own little lives, God hunters snatch one of our own and torture him for twelve days before he manages to break free. Some god’s we are.”

“But, but how could that happen?” Stacy asks. “Why didn’t he Bragi them into letting him go?” 

“Maybe it’s like in Star Wars, and it only works on those with a weak will?” Axl suggested.

“Religious fanatics ‘would’ have a very strong belief that what they are doing is right, so that could be it.” Mike agreed. 

“No, that’s not it.” Michele said as she walked up to Mike to take the stick.

“It sounds reasonable to me.” Stacey interjected. 

“Well yes, it Is reasonable, and it could be part of it, but it’s not the whole reason. Before Anders collapsed we talked and he told me some of what happened to him. He said,” Michele looked to be thinking hard over something, “he said that it was like Bragi wasn’t really there. Like he was somehow too weak, or too preoccupied to help Anders.” She frowned. “But then he also said that it was like Bragi were a little more present when he got away from the place they had held him.” 

 

“Apple trees!” Olaf exclaims.

“Excuse me?” Michele asks giving Olaf a doubting look.

“Apple trees.” He repeats.

“Babe, are you still high?” Stacey asks patting Olaf on the shoulder. 

“No, no, it not that.” He insists. “I had this dream, well I thought it was a dream, now I think it was a vision.”

“About apple trees?” Mike asks.

“Yes. I was in an orchard and there were these trees.”

“As there usually are in orchards. Is there a point to this?” 

“I’m getting there. So there was this woman crying by one of the trees. At first I thought it was Gaia, but it wasn’t. It was Idun. She was talking to me. I couldn’t understand her but I think it was about the tree she was sitting in front of. There was something wrong with the tree, there was red mixed in with the natural colour of its sap. I think she said the tree was sick.” Olaf finished a thoughtful frown on his brow.

“Oh this is bad.” Ingrid said eyes wide. 

“How is it bad?” Axl asks, tense as always when Gaia or her new identity is mentioned. 

“Remember Axl, Idun is the eternal goddess because she is the bringer of the apples. The apples are what grants the Aesir their eternal youth. In essence she is the guardian of the eternal spirits of the god’s, that’s why she gets to jump the queue of rebirth. So if the spirit of Idun is upset enough that she contacts Olaf in a dream vision to tell him something is wrong with one of her trees, then something IS seriously wrong.” 

“Idun knew Anders was in trouble?” Axl asked, still not clear on all the oracle stuff. 

“No I don’t think it was Anders Idun was warning Olaf about.” Ingrid said, as deeply serious, if not more so, as the night she and Olaf had talked to him and Gaia about their marriage. 

“Then…” Axl trailed off.

“Bragi.” Olaf said. “Idun was telling me that something is wrong with Bragi.”

 

Everyone was silent as they thought about the implications of what they had just heard.

 

Grasping the stick with both hands Michele straightened up and looked the assembled semi-deities over.

“You lot can think on that and figure out a way to stop the cops prying too much into this, you might even try calling Colin on that account, I’m sure he knows how to deal with the cops. You can also find out what you want to tell Dawn.” With that she unlocked the door and left, stick in hand.


	5. Don't Let Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tea everywhere but in the cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short, yes I know but it's only meant as a filler, to let me get on with the story and to give you a little something while I work on the next 'real' chapter. Also I have no idea what Dawn's last name is, so I went with Sutherland. If you do know it, please let me know so i can change it.  
> Cheers!

Bad news isn't wine.   
It doesn't improve with age.  
-Colin Powell

******

Dawn is having a really crappy day. 

‘No,’ she thinks as she wipes tea of her laptop, ‘no let’s be honest, I’m having a really crap week.’ She looks over at where the campaign team is arguing and sighs. Day’s like these she misses Anders ability to make almost anyone calm down. Or it could be that she simply misses Anders, exasperating, infuriating, sexist, silver tongued, charming, why can’t I stay mad at you, Anders. 

“That’s enough arguing people. Mr Gunderson has hired us to do a job, so I suggest you get back to doing it before I find someone who will.”

 

At first Colin Gunderson had not really been her cup of tea. When they had met he had seemed more like the typical rich asshole trying to make a name for himself than anyone she wold like running her city. But he had proven her wrong by listening to her, really listening. Not just the once, but every time she spoke to him. Slowly her doubt had given way to the belief that he really is doing this because he wants to be the best mayor possible and not just to use the position for his own advancement. 

That he all but bypassed Anders and put her in charge had been a thrilling experience. She had been so caught up in being in charge for a change and living her dream that she had failed to notice just how much she was treating Anders as her employee instead of her employer.

The truly weird thing was that when she did finally stop long enough to notice, she had been slightly horrified at her own boldness, Anders had just given her a smile and said: “Dawn, as much as you are the picture of a dedicated worker bee on any day of the week, I can see how much you burn for this assignment. And as much as my ego rebels at the mere notion that anyone could do better than I, it’s also plain to see that you are the one with the knowhow here, so it’s only logical that you take the lead.” She’d been flushed with pride and amazement at his words. Though the reason for her flushed skin had changed back to the more well-known annoyance as he had continued with: “Besides, you, ordering me around with that intense look in your eyes? Very hot.” He’d then winked at her and gone back to working on the wording for an update to Colin’s website. 

He’d left the office not soon after that, saying that it was too noisy there so he was going to be working on the website from home.

 

That had been just under two weeks ago now, and she’d neither seen nor heard from him since then. 

 

At first she had been angry that he hadn’t come back to work the next day, she felt that he was going back on his word not to fuck things up. But as she’d cheeked the website, it had been updated with several new and clever options, including a forum where people could discuss what made them feel that Auckland was ‘their’ city and not just ‘a’ city. Clearly, she’d thought, he was merely working from home and he ‘had’ said that she was the lead, so she’d left him alone and gone back to work. 

Three days later, he had yet to return to the office, and she’d noticed that the update requests she’d send to his e-mail was not getting done. She had tried calling him several times, but there had been no answer. 

At the end of the day she had driven past his place to confront him about her disappointment. At least that had been what she had kept telling herself as she’d used her key to let herself into his apartment. 

He’d not been there. Making her feel both relived and more worried than before. She’d called his brother Mike, who had sounded like someone resigned to their fate, and told her Anders was needed for ‘family business’, that he was a wanker for not alerting Dawn to this and that he would properly be back when he was back. 

Dawn had no reason not to believe Mike so she’d feed the fish and informed Colin that Anders was out of town for the time being.

 

Now, nearing the two week mark, she was getting frantic. Even Anders at his most, I,Me, Mine’, would not have let her hang for this long without word. In a fit of desperation she had confided in Colin that she couldn’t get a hold of Anders and that she felt as thought something was really wrong.

Colin had merely smiled his ‘all is well, or it will be once I get through’ smile and said that he would try his hand at finding Anders: “I do know more of the family than you after all.” For some reason he had left the office to make the call and she had yet to hear back from him. 

The thoughts going through her head, about where Andres could be or what could have happened to him, had meant that she was very much preoccupied, so when a rather loud argument broke out between several of campaign works she had startled and send her tea spilling out over her entire desk space.

 

As the campaign workers settled down and went back to work, Dawn decided that enough was enough. She reached for the phone to call Colin to hear if he’d gotten through to Mike, only to startle once more as the phone rang just as her fingers closed around the handle. Taking a second to compose herself she answered with her usual professional demeanour.

“J:pr Dawn speaking how may I help you?”

“Dawn Sutherland?” The voice of a middle-aged woman came through the speaker.

“Yes that’s me, can I ask who this is?”

“My name Irene Sharpe, I’m a doctor at Auckland general hospital. The reason that I’m calling you is that you are listed as Mr. Anders Johnson’s emergency contact. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might be some days before I update again. The neighbourhood I live in has been plagued by fires (read: arson) so I'm as jumpy as a cat in a rocking chair factory... which as you can imagine is NOT helping me towards getting fic done. So please, pleas bear with me if my tempo gets a little slow.


	6. I Saw Her Standing There.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly words and not much action, so sit back and listen...

*****  
He is no lawyer who cannot take two sides.  
\- Charles Lamb  
*****

 

They had argued back and forth, but in the end it was agreed upon by all, if reluctantly, that Colin really were their best bet at getting this mess cleared without causing some kind of incident.

Swallowing his pride and making that call had been one of the hardest things Mike had ever had to do.

 

This made it kind of anticlimactic when Colin agreed to help them after only four or five minutes of very reluctant grovelling from Mike. 

Looking down at his phone in bewilderment, as if it could answer what had just happened Mike sighed and walked back into the hospital to the others.

 

“So, will he help us?” Axl asked almost as soon as Mike opened the door. 

“He will yes. I highly doubt he is doing it for our sake, or even because he feels he need Bragi for his campaign, but he said he would deal with the police.”

Stacey looked alarmed.

“Were those his exact words? Because that might mean he’s going to turn them into dust, like literally to dust.”

“Oh come on even Colin is not that…” But Olaf never even gets to finish the sentence, before Mike is heading out the room again already reaching for his phone.

 

“I’m rather insulted really.” Colin says as he makes his entrance some ten minutes later. “As if, I would need to use my divine powers, to deal with something as trivial as the police.” He looks affronted for all of five seconds before his trademark grin appears. “Still it’s a useful suggestion if I’m ever in a hurry or merely for the fun eh?” 

The assembled deities fail to react, so Colin prepares to plow on, but Axl pre-empts him.

“How are you going to deal with this then?” If he has to listen to Colin, he can at least get him onto a topic that they actually care about. 

“Getting the police out of the picture is not really a problem. Not short term anyway.”

“What do you mean? We talked about distracting them with something, but we ruled it out as too risky.” Ty asks.

“Well naturally, you would try distracting the police wouldn’t you Tyrone?” Colin sneers.

Ty is about to reply, but Mike cuts in.

“Look, just tell us, so we can get Anders out of here and get him better.”

Colin and Ty hold each other’s gaze for a few second before Ty let’s his gaze drop. 

“As I was saying, the police don’t really have any reason to look into Anders’s case. Oh sure, from what Mikkel here tells me, there are clear signs of violence, but Anders have not made any statement to that to anyone besides the lovely Michele… Where IS she by the way?” Colin looks around as if expecting Michele to jump out from a corner with an Xena like war cry and go for his crotch.

“She’s trying to get to see Anders, or at least to get an update on his condition.”

“Ah, always keeps her eye on the ball that one. Well, with no official statement or complaint they can’t begin an investigation or even conduct an interview with Anders, which they can’t anyway because he is not conscious. Now until such a time as Anders wakes up, no one but his attending medical staff and medical proxy is legally allowed to even see him. With no statement, verbal or in writing, they can’t claim probable cause and see the evidence of violence for them self to begin an investigation. The only way they can know anything is if one of the staff talks, which would mean a breach in patient confidentiality and the guilty person would stand to lose their license to practise medicine. See, easy.” 

“What if they say it’s an anonymous source?” Mike asks.

“Been watching cop shows lately Mikkel? Normally that excuse is a sort of free pass for the police, but Not when it’s about medical issues. If they can’t prove without a doubt that their information is accurate they can’t force access to a patient or their records. And the only way to prove that their information is correct would be to name the source.”

“You mentioned the records, what if the cops read those?”

“Reading anyone’s medical files without consent is a criminal offence. The evidence would be tainted and unusable in court or even to use as an excuse to proceed with the investigation. The law is firmly in our corner here.”

“That’s all nice and good. But how do we deal with the medical staff? And who will tell off the cops hanging around?” Mike asked.

“Again, not a problem. We simply sign him out for a transfer to a private clinic, even if it’s against doctor’s orders, as family and medical proxy you have that right. Michele will heal him before hand, so once at the clinic we’ll simply sign him in as having had a stress related breakdown; he is running a high profile election campaign after all, so it’s plausible. He’ll have to spend a few days getting pampered and sweet talking the clinic psychologist, not a chore even if he wasn’t Bragi. The hospital staff will deal with the cops, who won’t think more off it. They are called down here for suspected rape and abuse cases that all come to naught all the time. Even if one of them shows initiative and contact’s the clinic, all they will get is a stone wall of medical legalities. As for the hospital records, Michele should be able to handle the ‘rewrite’. Honestly, don’t you people ever think for yourself?” Colin said as he finished his monolog with a flourish bow. 

Axl gave a nod of grudging approval.

“So once Anders gets out of surgery we go deal with his doctor and they deal with the cops?”

“Correct oh all mighty Odin.” Colin said as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, smirk firmly in place. 

“So I guess that Mike will be the one to speak to the doctors. He’s the … was it proxy you said?” Olaf asked, to which Colin gave a nod of affirmation.

“Right, so Mike being the proxy will deal with the doctors.” 

“No, he isn’t.” A feminine voice sounded from the doorway.

 

No one had noticed the door opening on that last sentence, but everyone turned around now, to see a doctor standing there.

“What?” Mike asked as the doctor simply remained standing in the doorway.

“I said, you are not Mr. Johnsons medical guardian, or as the lawyers term it proxy.”

“But I’m his oldest relative, if you don’t count our farther, which none of us do. And besides which he’s half way to Korea, so he won’t do you any good. Doesn’t that mean the title falls to me?” Mike asked, finding himself looking to Colin, of all people, for help and confirmation.

“In cases case’s where no guardian is named it typically falls to the spouse, or for the single, the family. But Mr. Johnson has a named guardian, so that is not the case here.” 

“Really? Would you care to tell us who the proxy is then? And who you are for that matter?” Mike asked, slightly miffed that Anders had chosen anyone other than him, but figuring that it would be Ty instead. The two of them might often be pricks towards each other, but to someone who knew them, the underlying affection was clear to see. Well it was clear to see Ty’s, Anders never showed those things, but the fact that he still spend time with Ty outside God business spoke volumes.

The doctor leaned back to look down the corridor, then gave a nod and leaned forward again.

“I’m doctor Irene Sharpe. I’m Mr. Johnsons physician, and this young lady is his appointed guardian.”

At the last words she stepped aside and let another person into the room.

“Dawn.” Ty all but whispered, as he saw the blond woman that entered the room.

The Johnsons exchanged looks, all of which said the same: What did they do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again short (sorry) and slow but I did warn you that I would be.  
> Not to worry though, for once this is 'out' I'm going straight back to working on the next chapter.  
> And I'll do my best to get back to Anders soon.


	7. Hello Little Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best laid plans of mice and men. Or gods and goddesses, as the case be...

Everyone has a plan ‘till they get punched in the mouth.  
\- Mike Tyson  
*******

Michele had managed to sneak the stick past security by bypassing the main hall and entering the recovery area via the entrance that medical students used to get to the observation area above the surgical floor.  
So all she had to do now was find a place to wait for the surgery to finish and for Anders to be brought in to the recovery ward so she could find out what exactly the surgical team had done, and how she could help Anders without causing an incident by making the wounds disappear entirely. 

Spying a supply closet right beside the entrance to the ward she took her chance. 

Using her, not quite legally attained, copy of the janitors skeleton key to open the door she slipped in and having confirmed that sound would carry through the door, so she could hear when they brought anyone in, she settled down for the wait on an overturned bucket slightly behind a shelve of, what on closer inspection turned out to be stacks of adult diapers. 

Frowning in disgust, she sighed and leaned forward resting her forehead against the Stick. 

“The things I do for those Johnsons.” She mumbled and waited for the motion sensor to turn of the light.

 

******

 

“I’ll go get an update from the surgical team, and give you a chance to talk.” Doctor Sharpe said as she left the room.

 

“Dawn. I, I never knew you were Anders’ medical contact?” Ty says as he finally finds his voice after the shock of finding out that not only had Anders felt the need for a medical proxy, he had apparently felt so unwelcomed in the family that he had chosen one outside the family. It hurts that his brother had thought so little of them, but it hurt more that he had felt that they had thought even less of him. The icy feeling, that used to be Hod, blossoming somewhere between his heat and stomach. Only this is not caused by divinity, but rather by being so human that he had somehow failed to realize that he was not the only one suffering. 

Dawn shifts uncomfortably and casts the closed door nervous looks, as if she would give the world to be on the other side.

“I’ve been so for six years by now.” She replies. Seeing the shocked faces of the people in the room she shrugs as if to say: ‘hey, it’s not my fault he didn’t tell you.’

“Six years? Why would he do that?” Mike says and at the look of thunder descending on Dawns pretty face, hastily adds: “No I get that you are a very responsible person, and clearly Anders trust you. It’s just, why would he feel the need for a proxy and why one outside the family?” 

In a surprisingly bitter and protective voice Dawn replies: “Yes, well I suspect there are a lot of things you don’t know about your brother. Why he felt the need for a proxy is not my story to tell, and it’s no use sending me those dark puppy eyes Ty, I won’t betray Anders trust.” Dawn says and points her finger accusingly at the aforementioned Johnson.

“As for why he chose me, well I think you would know the answers to that one if you took the time to think about it.” She says and crosses her arms, sounding and looking for all the world like an angry schoolteacher, making even Olaf, who hasn’t been inside a classroom as a student since before WW2, feel like crawling into a hole in shame.

Seeing the shamefaced family, no she things; they aren’t much of a family, they are only individuals where Anders is concerned. Seeing them she can honestly say she knows why Anders says the things he does, the way he does. Apparently if you aren’t brutally honest or crass, your voice isn’t heard. 

 

So, since she is a good girl that learned not to swear, she goes with brutally honest.

 

“For something that is literally questions of life and death, you will want someone you can trust to know and respect your wishes, someone you know will come when you call them no matter what. 

Now think back. Where were you six years ago? Do you remember? And if you do, where was Anders six years ago? 

You don’t know do you? 

Because, as hard as it might be to hear, up until about two years ago, none of you were a feature in his life. I’d only ever even meet Ty, and that was only something like eight times maximum in all the years I’d worked for Anders. Then suddenly you waltz back into his life, bringing so much chaos I can’t even begin to fathom it. 

In the start he was walking around smiling, like I’ve never seen before. And I thought; this is good. But it didn’t last did it?

First he was twice as fast at answering his phone when someone called. That changed rather fast. I can’t count all the times I’ve heard you hang up on him, even when you are the ones that called him. Which, you only ever seem to do when you want something from him.”

Dawn threw her hands up in a despairing gesture, now well and truly warm to her subject. 

“And he always, always ends up coming when you call. No matter how much he is needed at work, no matter how much money he loses or how reluctant he is to do what you ask, he ends up doing it. 

I’ve seen some of the scrapes and bruises he’s gotten on your little execrations so don’t you dare say you just need his pr skills! I don’t know what it is that you think you need him for so badly that you would put him into harm’s way to achieve it, and I don’t care to know.” She says and points her finger at Mike who had opened his mouth to object. 

“All I need to know about you as a ‘family’, and I use that term in the loosest meaning possible, is that you would and have done so. So as for Anders choosing me: He knows that not only would I NEVER put anyone in harm’s way, least of all him, and if he calls I’ll always answer if I’m physically able to. I’m stable, trustworthy, I know him and his wishes, but most importantly to Anders is that I’m There for him. Like I was when you weren’t around back then and when you don’t care enough to notice that something is wrong now, I’m there, I notice, I actually care. That is why Anders asked me to be his guardian.” 

With that angry, passionate and truly frightening delivery, Dawn sinks down into the uncomfortably looking chair behind her.

 

The entire room is silent as they try to take everything in. Both what had been said, and the fact that Dawn, who while they’d known she had backbone, had ever seemed like the quiet type had said it.

“Look, I know it must be a lot to take in, and that it has apparently come as a shock and all that. But, but if you want to have a say in any of this, you have better come up with some seriously good explanations and start acting like the family you claim you are, because I take my role as his guardian dead serious and if I even get a whiff of bull shit in the air? I’ll use my legal rights and have you removed from this hospital quicker than Anders can pull a date on a hen night, is that clear?!”

“Crystal. And if it’s not too much, might I also add that you make for the most stunning knight in shining armour.” Colin says as he is the first one to regain the use of his vocal cords, the lecture had hardly been aimed at him after all.

Dawn blushes.

“Mr. Gunderson, I mean Colin, I, I didn’t even really see you there.”

“Well, while I dislike being overlooked, I guess I can…”

Colin’s voice fades as the lights flicker and flash for a few second. 

“What the hell?” Axl asks as they all look to the ceiling, where the light is stable for only a few seconds before there is a muffled sound of thunder in the distance and they once again flash violently before they go out, some of them with a rather pathetic little ‘pop’.

They stand in darkness for all of ten seconds before the emergency generators kick in and the lights, those that haven’t burned out, flicker back on.

“Is everyone alright?” Mike asks and let’s his eyes wander over the others in the room. Getting nods and words in the affirmative he opens the door and is meet by frantic medical staff hurrying about to cheek on all their electronic equipment and the patients that are relying on it. 

“Please sir, if no one is injured could you stay in the room?” A nurse askes as she makes an impressive walking dash down the corridor towards the surgical doors.

“Yeah sure no problem, ” Mike says and starts to pull back in before thinking to ask: “Do you know what just happened?”

“No, must have been an electrical surge or a malfunction somewhere, but the generators are up so everything should be functioning close to normal. Only don’t use the elevators, they won’t be operational on the limited power supply.” And then she is gone, doors swinging close behind her. 

Mike goes back in and explains what the nurse told him to the others.

 

They all sit in a sort of uneasy silence for a while until Ingrid can’t take it anymore and gets up with a: “Right. What has been said cannot be unsaid, and we can all learn to be more open and listen to each other. But it’s not going to happen right this instance; we are far too high strung with worry over Anders. So what I’m going to do is I’m going to take Dawn here, and we are going to go get everyone some real coffee. Now don’t argue dear, after that impressive display you could use the fresh air, and Anders will be in surgery for a while yet according to the nice doctor so you don’t have to stay here, and we could all use the pick me up. Stacey will come to, and we’ll leave the men to sort out their wounded pride okay? Good, now come along.” She ushers the two women out ahead of her with such speed Dawn barely has time for a: “But, I…”  
The door has hardly closed on the three of them, before Ingrid is coming in again. “You two go ahead, I just forgot my purse, I’ll catch up with you by the stairs.” She says and closes the door from the inside. Her face taking on a much more serious expression. 

“Right. We’ll keep her out for as long as we can, you better think of something quick. Oh and I need money.” 

At their bewildered look she shrugged and ad: “For coffee. I don’t have enough to buy for everyone. Oh and Colin, I don’t know how you take yours?”

“Hot and steamy, a bit like sex really.”

“O-okay. That was more than I really needed to know. Thanks Mike.” She says as she pockets the money Mike had handed over with a resigned sigh. And with a quick wave she’s out the door again.

 

“So now what?” Axl asks, he had been rather happy with Colin’s plan actually, but with the almighty Dawn as Anders Shield maiden of choice, it seems rather unlikely that they can go with that.

“Now, now we put our heads together and figure something new out.” Olaf says, steeple his fingers like a cartoon villain and puts on his most thoughtful look.

“We could still go with a modified version of the old plan. We just have to get to Anders, tell him the plan and get him to sign himself out. I mean, as long as he is awake and reasonably sound of mind, Dawn’s proxy state doesn’t come in to play right?”

“No, but unless Michele can get to him, it’s going to take quite some time for him to wake up after surgery, which gives Dawn plenty of time to see for herself just how bad it is. Not to mention that doctor Sharpe has apparently already filled her in on most of it. There is no way the firebrand Valkyrie we just saw will accept that Anders got better just like that.” Colin says and snaps his fingers for emphasize.

“That I think we can all agree upon.” Mike says and leans on the door. It opens inward, and this way he can both keep an ear out for anyone approaching and make sure no one burst in on them unannounced, should he fail to hear them over their own voices, which is a valid concern because the Johnsons may be many things but quiet has never really been one of them, throw Colin into the mix? Yeah, it’s not going to be a plan conceived by whispered conspirators.

 

They argue back and forth for a while before Axl finally asks: “Why don’t we just wait until he’s out of surgery, then, before Dawn or anyone else can see him, we pull the fire alarm and sort of sneak him out?”

“That might actually work.” Olaf says as the same time Mike says: “You have any idea how much trouble it would cause to pull a fire alarm in a hospital?” And Colin smiles and adds: “Or I could just set something on fire, then we wouldn’t even have to pull the alarm.”

“Pyro.” Ty mutters earning himself a glare from Mike and a smirk from Colin.

“You,” Mike says and point’s at Ty, “Shut up, unless you have something useful to say. And you,” He turns towards Colin, “You are Not setting anything on fire got that?”

“You are such a wet blanket Mikkel. I found the idea truly inspiring.” Colin says.

But Axl can’t help but think that he is truly on to something here.

“No, no listen. We just need to …”

But they never get to hear what they need to do, because at that moment Mike leans closer to the door and motions for silence. He listens for a few seconds before he curses and says: “The women are back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I said there would be action soon, or at least not just dialog, and there will be! …. soon.  
> I also promised that I would bring back Anders, and I will! … soon. ;-P  
> But hey, at least I was relatively quick with this update!


	8. Tomorrow Never Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No I won't tell, you'll have to read it... yes I AM that evil.

Let no one weep for me, or celebrate my funeral with mourning;  
for I still live, as I pass to and fro through the mouths of men.  
\- Quintus Ennius

 

 

“You know,” The head surgeon said as he stood over the patient and was about to make the first incision. “I interned in London, did my special in Los Angeles and I’ve done five stints in various disaster areas and warzones. So it’s safe to say I thought I’d seen most of the weird and evil stuff out there. But what this poor soul went through,” he indicated the lines of scriptures winding its way down the exposed chest of the patient, occasionally the delicate writing is obscured by a deeper gash or darkening bruise, “it just reminds me that man has no need to look to religion or superstition for evil, he just have to look to his fellow man.” 

“Poor dear.” The elderly head nurse sighs and gently pets the patients golden tresses, in the way of concerned grandmothers everywhere. She looks at the chart a second then ad in a reassuring voice: “Don’t you worry Anders, we are going to do our very best by you.” 

The rest of the staff murmur their consent and also promises to do their very best by him.

“Right, lets safe the poor bugger.” The surgeon said and put scalpel to flesh.

As he brings the scalpel along the rips to loosen the flesh the assistant nurse makes a sniffing noise.

“Are you getting a cold Annie? You shouldn’t be in her if you are.” The head nurse asks.

“No, it’s not that Marie. It’s just… oh it’s nothing.” She says and waves them of.

 

Five minutes later Annie sniffs again.

Marie gives her a look but they carry on.

 

Over the next twenty minutes she sniffs again twice. 

“Are you sure you aren’t getting a cold dear?” 

“I’m fine Marie! It’s just, oh you are going to think I’m being silly. But try to take a sniff and tell me what you smell?”

They humour the nurse and do so.

“You know, I do smell something. Sort of, sickly.” The anesthesiologist says from where he is monitoring the readout of the patients vitals.

“I’d say it was more sickly sweet than just sickly.” The surgeons assistant says as she hands him a sponge. 

“I grew up next to a big plantation.” Marie says, causing the entire team to groan.

“This is hardly the time for another one of you childhood stories Marie, this could be serious. For all we know this could it be a tear in his intestines or stomach lining we are smelling.” The surgeon says. “And if it is, we have an even longer time ahead of us here.”

“Yes I know, this is hardly my first surgery you old crock!” And from the sound of her voice it’s clear that had the man not been doing surgery she would have smacked him upon the head. “The point is, that they never used the fallen fruit for anything, they just left it on the ground for all us kids to do with as we pleased. I used to spend hours going through them to find the ones not spoiled so… I know this sounds crazy but … it’s apples. It’s the smell of fermenting apples.” 

“That’s it exactly! I thought it was just me.” Annie says and smiles, well they can hear her smile, the mask makes it hard to see.

They all sniff again and nod.

“Apples, you think it could be some kind of cologne?” The surgeons assistant asks, hoping the poor soul doesn’t have to deal with the unpleasantness of perforated bowel on top of all the other things.

“We can always…” The surgeon starts but is interrupted by the anesthesiologist.

“Whoa!!” 

“What?” The surgeon asks, one hand grasping the scalpel the other stopping mid-air.

“I could have sworn… No I must be imagining things.”

“What you too? First it’s apples now you are seeing things?”

“Nah I must have blinked or something, just carry on I’ll double check the paper read out later.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah it was nothing. The vitals are stable, not good, but the same as when we started.”

 

****Ten Minutes Later****

 

“What the hell?” The anesthesiologist swears and once again everyone freezes.

“What?”

“This time I did see something!” 

He picks up the paper and starts to looks it over.

“There! Two separate brainwave patterns?! How is that even possible?”

There is a pause the he adds: “The, eh, the patient IS male right? There is no way ‘he’ could be pregnant?”

The surgeon roles his eye and the nurses snorts.

“He’s male. I had a look at most of his wounds as we were prepping him.” Annie says and a blush can be seen over the mask. 

Marie gets a wicked glint in her eyes and asks: “Well?”

Annie blushes even more.

“He might not be tall, but he isn’t small.”

“Annie!!”

“What? I had to treat the wounds to avoid infection, he’s got… well those cuts go all the way down, how was I to avoid looking if I had to see what I was doing? Besides, I’m only as human as the next person.” Annie defends herself, the sniffs the air again. “Wait, it the apple smell getting stronger?”

“It is. But how does that help me explain the extra set of brainwaves?” The anesthesiologist asks and indicates the monitor, where, right at that instant the pattern fluxes and becomes two instead of one.

“See? That can’t be right, it must be a faulty unit. I’ll hock up the spare and send this one down to maintenance later.” He reaches out to unpluck the presumably faulty unit when it flashes and the brainwaves both flare violently.

“Shit!” Casting a look at the heart monitor confirms it. “He’s crashing!”

“Crash cart now! This is not going to be pretty. Set it to 260, clear!”

Anders whole body jumps as the paddles deliver their charge, which is to be expected. What is not to be expected is the shimmer of electricity that seems to visually flow over his entire body, before it runs along the cords and wires, into the monitors causing them to scream out bloody murder, and every light in the room flashes. Neither is the sickly reddish golden fluid that begins flowing from every wound on his body. If the odour of apples were noticeable before it’s slowly becoming overpowering.

“What the…”

“We can be confused later! We have a patient to save, 300.”

“Right, 300.”

“Clear!”

Just before the paddles touch down there is a flash of summer green light and the clear voice of a young woman in distress is heard: “Nei!!”

 

But it’s too late, the surgeon has already pressed the release and the power flows from the paddles into the body of his patient.

The entire surgical team is thrown back as a blinding surge of what could, realistically, only be labelled as a crash of thunder and lightning roars and flashes out, the power of the blast knocking the entire team unconscious. 

Bluish and white surges of power shimmer and dance over everything and fry every single electrical gadget or component in the room.

The wounds on Anders’s body seem to glow and spark with a combination of colours, for a second before they fade along with his heartbeat…

 

*****

 

Michele shifted for what seemed like the eight’s time in as many minutes. The bucket really was exceptionally uncomfortable. She was seriously contemplating using a bag of the diapers as a cushion when something like an explosion could be heard from further down the hall.

Not even stopping to think about what she was doing for as much as a second, she grabs the stick and is out the door. As she emerges from the dark storeroom it takes her several strides before she realizes that the entire hospital seems to be without power.

It’s a major problem for everyone in the hospital of course, but for her it means that when she enters the corridor housing the surgical rooms, she can’t see which ones are in use, as the little lights normally indicating it are all out. 

After being momentarily disorientated, she notices a faint odour of smoke coming from the room just on her right. She enters the front chamber without knocking, and stops short at the chaos she sees. 

Every machine and device in the room is either completely dark or sparking with electricity. Several of her colleagues are scattered around on the floor, all clearly unconscious. And in the middle, lying on the table with no movement at all, not even to draw breath is…

“Anders!”

 

She runs over, already drawing power from Yggdrasil. 

To hell with subtlety and discretion, to hell with getting into trouble trying to explain away a miracle recovery, they can deal with that later. What’s important now is to make sure Anders has a later.

“Live, damn you, live.” She prays and places on hand on his forehead, the other over his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I was evil! X-)
> 
> would it make it better if I told you I considered to end the chapter either after: “He’s crashing!” or "they fade along with his heartbeat…" No? Ah well.   
> Remember: comments make my day.


	9. Revolution 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For once the title will have NO bearing on the chapter. It’s MY revolution. Because I’ve just seen the latest episode and they bloody well stole my idea!

Dickens is one of those authors who are well worth stealing.  
\- George Orwell.

*****

The coffee has been handed out, and though the silence reigns supreme, it’s somehow a lot less awkward when everyone has a beverage in hand. 

Dawn proves her bravery and determination once again by being the one to break the silence.

“So, what did doctor Sharpe say?”

“She hasn’t come back yet.” Ty answers.

Dawn frowns mildly.

“That’s odd, she said she was just going to check on the surgical team then come back, and that was before we went for coffee, which took what thirty minutes all in all? And we, eh, we had that little talk before that. I mean, I’m sure she has other patients but she did say she’d come right back. You don’t think …”

“Mike!”

The sudden yell that comes with the door being flung open makes most of them spill coffee.

“Michele, you… what happened to you?! Are you alright?” Mike says as Michele slams the door after her, and stands there leaning on the dripping wet Stick. Her hair is all askew, she’s breathing hard as if she’s been running, her scrubs are covered in all kinds of fluids and…

“Are those scorch marks?” Axl asks and takes a step closer to get a better look.

“What happened to your face?” Stacy asks noticing that Michele has the beginnings of one hell of a shiner.

“Why is the stick wet?” Olaf, ever one for priority’s, adds. 

“Why does she even have a stick in the hospital?” Dawn asks, looking at Michele as if she might be the carrier of some debilitating and exotic disease.

“Pagan medicine, it’s part of a study. Bridging the gap of medicinal knowledge, from the dark ages towards the future.” Colin says not even batting an eyelash at the blatant lie. 

“Right, yes that.” Michele says and makes a grab for Mike’s arm. “Mike, Anders is gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? The ‘study’ excuse? That was totally mine! I actually stopped the show, and made my tester go read what I had to prove it. She said she agreed with me, but she was trying not to laugh so I’m not sure how much I believe her….  
> Please don’t threaten me with violence. My ‘tester’ already did, and I’ll get down to doing more fic as soon as I return from The European Medieval Festival tonight.  
> And yes I know my notes are actually longer than the chapter. Sorry. No really I AM!


	10. All Things Must Pass.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not this, not Anders, not on top of everything else. No, no, no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this, the longest chapter yet, makes up for the evil cliffie and the ‘long’ wait.  
> The notes at the end contain spoilers for the fic.

The timing of death, like the ending of a story,  
gives a changed meaning to what preceded it.  
\- Mary Catherine Bateson.

 

 

“Mike, Anders is gone.”

The words resonate in the room. But it’s nothing compared to what they do inside Mikes head. 

They seem to bounce of the sides of his brain, dragging up memories and pictures, while tearing at his nerve endings. 

He can’t seem to breathe right, it’s as if someone has reached into his chest and is squeezing his lungs making it impossible to get enough oxygen to make his brain process the words he’s just heard.

No, not this. Not his little brother. 

Not the baby who used to laugh whenever he saw his big brother. 

Not the toddler who would follow him around, stumbling along on tiny legs trying to keep up. 

Not the boy who used to look up at Mike as if he held all the answers to every question the universe could throw at them. 

The pre-teen than would tell his brothers, with total conviction, that whatever was wrong would be okay, because Mike would make it better. 

Not this, not Anders, not on top of everything else. No, no, no.

 

*****

 

“Anders is gone.”

Olaf who’s face is so pale he looks like he might be sick, leans into Stacey and puts his arms around her, as if her feisty personality and quick smile can hold all the bad vibes away for just a few seconds longer before he has to face the fact that he’s just lost one of his precious grandchildren. 

Despite everything Anders had been the only one of his grandchildren who seemed to both realize that the world could be a cruel, dark and deeply unfair place, and that, not in spite of, but because of this fact, you had to do your darndest to have fun while you were alive. Or as Anders himself had once so poetically put it: “If life gives you lemons, you slice them up and drown those sour little fuckers in alcohol.” The memory of Anders soothing action to words, with that devilishly playful glint in his eyes and a smile so wide his dimples really came out, brought a sob to Olaf’s throat and opened the gate for more memory flotsam. 

 

Anders, the one who had come as so much of a surprise. When Johan and Elisabeth had been expecting Mike, Olaf had been told right away and had gotten updates almost every week. With Anders Olaf hadn’t know about him until he’d come by for Mike’s birthday and Mike had insisted he see his baby brother. Baby Anders, who was the least fussy baby Olaf had ever met, completely contend to be handed around and cooed over, but would only let out his baby laugh for Mike and Olaf.

Tiny toddler Anders, all big eyes and blond curls, having to tilt his head so far back to look up at Olaf that he’d fallen over backwards more than once when he tried to do so. Laughing and babbling a mix of regular and made up words every time he did so. Managing to nearly shock Olaf out of his skin when he realized that the ‘made up’ words where actually Old Norse. Not that he understood the words, but by the way Balder reacted to them he knew them for what they were. 

“He’s special.” Elisabeth had said and shaken her head at her youngest antics. “He began talking at eight months.” 

“You mean single words and such.”

“No, I mean talking. And you haven’t shut up since have you little man?” She asked and gave Anders a mock glare, which only made him grin and yell: “No!” before he jumped to his feet and ran of calling for Mike.  
Elisabeth turned back to the dishes.

“Full sentences and a treasure throve of swear words like you wouldn’t believe.” And then, casual as you like added: “We think he’s going to be Bragi.”

Listening to Anders sweet talk his brother into playing with him instead of watching cartoons Olaf could only agree.

 

Eight years old Anders, patiently helping Ty build a sandcastle while Olaf teaches Mike to surf, even though Olaf could see the longing looks Anders send the surfboard. 

 

Ten year old Anders refusing to come down from the huge oak tree he seems to be the only one that can climb, until Olaf turns to dirty tricks and bring Axl out to the tree with him. Axl is crying and wailing refusing to be calm. ‘Andy’ being the only word that can be clearly understood. 

It takes less than a minute of this before Anders climbs down and picks up Axl from where Olaf had placed him on the ground. He schusses Axl and runs his hand soothingly up and down his back, calming him down to the hiccups stage in no time. They just stand there until Axl is asleep in Anders arms.

“I hate him.” Anders says voice quiet so as to not wake Axl.

“He’s your farther.” Olaf says.

“That only makes me hate him more.” Anders answers and looks up at Olaf for the first time. The light of the nearly full moon highlighting the busted lip and swollen eye, and as they walk back inside the house 

Olaf wonders if he should have made two rules instead of the one. 

 

Thirteen year old Anders so high, that Olaf thinks if he were to lean to the side he could properly use the moon as an armrest. The fact that Olaf is almost as high might have had something to do with that thought. Though how a thirteen year old has managed to talk him into letting him get stoned with him he has no idea except: “Fucking Bragi.” 

“What?” Anders says and makes a shooing gesture with his hands, though it’s winter and bitterly cold so there’s hardly going to be any insects out.

“What?” Olaf says back, knowing that the ‘hey I’m stoned, don’t ask me to make sense’ excuse will get you amazing places. It works this time too.

“Hey how come you are the same?” Anders asks, still chasing non existing insects.

Shit, Olaf is too stoned to talk his way out of what Mike has yet to remark upon or maybe even to notice. Oh heck it worked once, maybe if he feigns ignorance? “What?”

“You totally look the same now that you did as far back as I can remember. So either you have a wicked good plastic surgeon, which, dude is soooo not your style. Or you have some weird ass disease that made you look old as fuck when you were actually young, or you know the other way around. Or, maybe oh, oh I got it, you are an alien right?”

“Er…” But no comment seems to be needed.

“Shit I’m hungry. Can we have pizza?” Anders pleads and turns big eyes, made even bigger by being high, onto Olaf. Later Olaf will blame the pot for placing the strange whisper in Anders voice when he says: “Please Olaf can we go for pizza?” Luckily Anders passes out before they even makes it to the pizza place, and the conversation of Olaf’s looks isn’t brought up again, but Anders does give Olaf a knowing look when he turns 21 and Olaf explains that he is really his grandfather. 

 

Olaf lets the sob lose, and swears he feels every one of his many years.

 

*****

 

“Anders is gone.”

“He’s… Anders, he can’t be…” Axl mumbles and sits down with a heavy thud, never noticing that he almost misses the chair.

 

He’d been so pissed at Anders for taking Gaia away. Except it hadn’t been Anders Idun had followed it had been Bragi. And even if Bragi had not come to the goddess ceremony, Ingrid had later explained that Idun would have found the nearest ‘soon to be goddess’ without any help, because Idun had to be, so it wasn’t even Bragi’s fault. It was the god hunters who had killed Helen and made Idun find Gaia. True they had followed Anders from Norway, but it had been Agnetha that had sent him there in the first place. 

Axl sighed. He should have let that shit go a long time ago now. He was supposed to be Odin, to be all seeing and wise, yet he couldn’t even realize that he was blaming the wrong person. He’d actually been angry enough to nearly kill him.

How could he do that? No matter how mad you became you shouldn’t nearly kill the person who used to let you hide in his room and tell you stories about all sorts of things, though mainly fish, when you were scared or sad as a kid. 

Who had been the one who would climb into the impossible tall oak out back to get your ball when it got stuck in the branches. 

Who had let you hold his hand as he walked you to school and then slip you money to by lunch when the fridge had once again been empty that morning. 

Had been the one who helped you make Christmas and birthday presents and only moaned a little when you got paint and such all over. He had even managed to talk mum out of grounding you when you got glitter glue all over her favourite table cloth. 

He had also been the one who had helped you with your homework. So when you had been stupid enough to make a bet with Carl Peterson from the neighbouring farm that you could memorize all the states in the US before the weekend was over, he had spend his entire Saturday helping you memorize them, so you wouldn’t have to give him your new bike. The same bike he and Ty had been teaching you how to ride just last weekend. 

Anders had been the cool one, who let you stay up late and watch scary movies with him, as long as you promised not to be scared and not to tell anyone. And then made up excuses for why you had to bunk in his room for days on end until the nightmares stopped. 

He’d also been the one who let you have your first beer and cigarette when you were eleven, and hadn’t laugh too hard when you got sick only minutes later. He even confessed that he hadn’t lasted a full minute the first time he’d had a cigarette, and that you should be thankful he had insisted you be outside for this. 

And even though he had been all but banned from the family, once you turned twenty-one, he had been the only one who had actually seemed to take an interest in helping you find Frigg. Getting you into places way classier than any place you could have gotten into on your own. He’d even cleared out and let you use his pad as a place to bring these girls. And you’d actually had some really fun times looking for Frigg together.

Generally it seemed that Anders had been someone who had done so much more for Axl than he had ever really noticed, or even cared to think about until now when it was too late. When Anders was … 

 

******

 

“Anders is gone.”

 

Ty feels cold. 

He used to think being Hod was a curse. That feeling nothing was the very worst kind of torture. What he feels now makes him long for Hod’s cold embrace. 

 

Ty remembers mum fondly. He remembers her as a warm and loving person, who had so much to do that she hardly ever had time for it all, but always had time to smile at Ty. Yet the first noise that Ty had made that could be attributed to any one thing or person had been a ‘nnn’ sound that was baby Ty’s noise for when he saw Anders. And while ‘mum’ had been his first clearly spoken word, ‘Andy’ had been a very close second.

 

How can he go on when he’ll never get to call out to the person who meant so much to him from the very beginning of his existence that he was his first sound? 

 

He remembers running into Mike’s room for years whenever a thunderstorm would hit, until the time where one hit while Mike was sleeping at a friend’s house, and he’d turned to Anders room instead.

Anders had been up as well. But unlike Ty, who wanted to hide under the blankets, he had been sitting in the window looking out at the storm with wide fascinated eyes. “Isn’t it beautiful Ty?” he’d asked once he’d seen his brother. “Come on you can see it better from up here.” Ty hadn’t wanted to at first but Anders had won him over, and as Anders had talked and talked through the lightning and the thunder. Ty had felt his heartbeat slow down, and his whole body relaxed along his brothers until he had fallen asleep to the sound of Anders voice arguing back at the lightning and the thunder. He’d never been afraid of thunderstorms again.

 

How can he see the good in a life when the person how first made him face his fear can no longer take his hand and show him the beauty of the darkness? 

 

Ty remembers being pushed into the stream that ran near their school by a bunch of kids from the year above Anders. He remembers trying very hard to neither burst into tears or to punch them. Mum said only babies cried and dad had said not to hit anyone smaller than himself, the hypocrite, to which Anders had added that anyone hitting someone bigger than themselves was just plain stupid which Mike had actually agreed with, so Ty thought it must be good advice. He’d been sorely tested on his resolve not to do so when Anders had entered the fray, first asking and then demanding that the bigger boys let Ty get out of the cold stream. When talking hadn’t worked, Anders, who had never been tall for his age, and at this point was actually barely a centimetre taller than Ty, had thrown a punch at the biggest and meanest of the lot that had sent the bully reeling. 

Later that afternoon as they had been send to bed early and without supper for ‘fighting’ and coming home soaking wet, Ty had sneaked into Anders room and crawled in to lay beside him. “I thought you said you’d be stupid to hit someone bigger?” He’d said as he snuggled up to Anders already burning body.

“Yes, well they hit my baby brother, what’s a guy to do?” Anders had said and promptly sneezed. “Now shoo, or you’ll catch my cold and mum will have my head.”

“You got that cold defending me.”

“She won’t care Ty. All she’ll se is that you are sick and that I’m to blame.”

“No, I’ll tell her that it isn’t your fault. You defended me against those bully’s, I’ll defend you against mum.”

“My hero.” Anders says in a spot on imitation of Mike’s latest crush and flutters his eyelashes making both of them laugh so hard they end up nearly coughing a lung up.

 

How can he expect his blood to keep on flowing when he’ll never again feel the warmth and safety of his brother’s embrace?

 

Normally the little voice that tells him to cheer up and look at the bright side of things would pop up right about now and tell him to celebrate a life lived and not a life lost. But it is silent. How can it speak to Ty, when the voice it has always spoken in has been silenced forever?

 

******

 

Michele is looking at Dawn, trying to figure what she is doing here and what the others have told her, so she completely misses their reactions as she tries to keep what she says vague.

It’s only as Dawn’s eyes mist and she sniffs, that Michele realizes what the others think she’s saying.

“Oh, no. No I didn’t mean ‘gone – gone’ I meant … er… excuse me but should she be here?” She indicates Dawn. It’s a bit clumsy and rough, but she really can’t spare the time to be delicate right now.

“Hey!” Dawn says, caught between relief that Anders apparently isn’t dead and outrage at the rude behaviour of the person in scrubs before her. 

“Dawn is Anders proxy.” Colin says, naturally the only one even remotely unaffected by what she had just said.

“That’s right, so if you have any information about Anders you better tell me right now.” Dawn says, arms crossed and eyes smouldering. “I thought doctor Sharpe was Anders’s physician and doctor Meyers was his surgeon, who are you? And what do you mean you ‘lost’ Anders?” Dawn demands. 

“I think it’s safe to say that ‘doctor’ Sharpe is not going to be available for any consults in the near future.” Michele says and, brave woman that she is, turns away from Dawn towards Mike.

“I need to talk with you alone, now.”

“But…” Axl begins, only to be cut off by Michele.

“Not now Axl. I have to speak with Mike.” Michele says and starts to lead Mike towards the door.

“Hey, you can’t just walk away like that!” Dawn says and lays a hand on Michele’s shoulder.

Michele sighs. 

“I don’t have time for this shit. Look lady, you can either sit back and let me work on saving your boss or you can try to stand in my way, which will only end in tears and yelling. It’s your choice, but only for the next ten seconds then I make the choice for you.”

“Are you threatening me? Is she?” Dawn begins, eyes narrowing dangerously and hands clenching, but stops when Ty takes one of her hands in his. It’s an intimate gesture, to intimate for how little they know each other, but somehow it feels right.

“Dawn.” Ty says in a kind yet serious voice. “I know you are Anders’s guardian, in more ways that he properly realizes even on a good day. And as much as it hurts me that Anders felt he had to go outside our family to find a guardian, or that he felt he needed one, it makes me glad he has you, that you both seem to take the job very serious and that you really do care for him, even when he is a total dick at times.” Ty is ever so gently caressing the hand he hold in his, barely a brush of skin on skin but Dawn seem to relax a little as he speaks, encouraging him to continue. 

“But right now? Right now you can help Anders the most by leaving and letting us handle it. I promise,” he says and holds up his other hand in a ‘wait’ gesture as Dawn starts to protest, “I promise that we Will do everything in our power to help Anders, and that we will inform you as soon as we know more. Just please, please trust me on this. Go home and trust us.”

Dawn look long and hard into Ty’s eyes. She is close to saying yes, he can see, she only needs one little push. A push which is, oddly enough, provided by Colin of all people.

“If it makes you feel any better I’ll stay here as a legal representative and keep an eye on the proceedings?” 

Dawn looks to be tethering on the edge of a decision for a few precious seconds before she nods.

As much as it pains Ty that it took the word of Colin, he’s just glad that Dawn agreed. If nothing else because he knows that, if she hadn’t felt the he himself were trustworthy, she wouldn’t have agreed no matter what Colin would have said.

“Okay. I don’t know why I’m agreeing to this, but okay. I’ll return to the office and see if I can’t get some work done. But you call me, the second you know anything, you hear me?” She never takes her eyes of Ty, which goes a long way towards making him feel better about Dawns reactions towards him earlier, though to be fair that had been the entire Johnson clan, and not just him she had been giving a piece of her mind, and the piece had been plenty big enough for the four of them to share, but even then he couldn’t help but want her to just leave so he could find out what Michele knew about Anders. Because how the hell did you ‘lose’ someone in an operation room, if not to death?

“Promise.” Ty says and finally lets go of her hand.

With one final assessing and semi threatening look round at all of them, Dawn leaves.

 

***Forty minutes earlier***

 

“Whoa!!” 

“What?” The surgeon asks, one hand grasping the scalpel the other stopping mid-air.

“I could have sworn… No I must be imagining things.”

“What you too? First it’s apples now you are seeing things?”

“Nah I must have blinked or something, just carry on I’ll double check the paper read out later.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah it was nothing. The vitals are stable, not good, but the same as when we started.”

 

Closing the door to the observation area of the surgical room silently behind her, Irene Sharpe, took a deep breath and hurried down the corridor, heading in the opposite direction of the waiting room that held the Johnson family.

Entering an empty staff room she switched the sign to occupied, locked the door and took out her phone.

“Verdandi? Det er Skuld. Ek hafa fund ham. Urdr havde rétt. Banded er skadit. Vér má handlá nú.” 

 

****Now****

 

The door has barely closed before Michele is bombarded with questions.

She ignores them all in favour of looking Mike in the eyes and in a surprisingly calm voice says: “They took him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Old Norse translation:  
> “Verdandi? Det er Skuld. Ek hafa fund ham. Urdr havde rétt. Banded er skadit. Vér má handlá nú.”  
> Verdandi? It’s Skuld. I have found him. Urdr was right. The bond is damaged. We have to act now.”
> 
> Remember I’m not a scholar, so my translations are based on dictionaries, internet translators, and when those fail my personal knowledge of the Scandinavian languages ( I’m Danish and speak both Norwegian and Swedish so I think I’m good enough to make a guess)
> 
> Yes I do know that most children only start to speak a few clear words at the six month stage, and that real speak in the form of a few sentences comes at eighteen months. But remember: This is a God Child Bragi, and it’s Anders. And we all just know that he was a mouthy little fucker right from the get go. 
> 
> The pow varies a lot in the story, therefore my writhing style does as well, they are different people so their thoughts would be different as well as the way they react to the same news. I hope it worked for you, and didn’t leave you confused. 
> 
> I also hope you enjoyed the chapter and don’t feel like murdering me for leaving you with yet another cliffie. 
> 
> Remember: Comments are your friend and really does make me do fic much faster.


	11. Dear Prudence open up your eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was barely conscious at the time! Not exactly an ideal position to try and stop three people! Look it doesn’t matter now anyway, we need Ullr to track them so we can get Anders back.”

*******

 

Dear Prudence open up your eyes  
Dear Prudence see the sunny skies  
The wind is low the birds will sing  
That you are part of everything  
Dear Prudence won't you open up your eyes?  
\- Lennon/McCartney 

 

*****

 

“They took him.” Michele says and presses on before anyone can interrupt her with questions. “Doctor Sharpe came in with two rather bulky looking men and they took Anders away.”

“We’ll lets go after them then!” Ty says and is almost out the door before Michele’s voice stops him.

“They will be long gone by now Ty.” 

“Didn’t you try to stop them?” Axl asks.

“I was barely conscious at the time! Not exactly an ideal position to try and stop three people! Look it doesn’t matter now anyway, we need Ullr to track them so we can get Anders back.”  
Mike gives a nod. He’s seen the woman they are hunting which would be enough to give him a trail, but they have Anders, and Mike has always had the greatest ease with tracking his brothers. 

Taking a deep breath he lets his senses flow and.... 

“Nothing.”

“What?” This from several of the assembled. 

“Let me try again.” He tries again, casting his senses out, mentally screaming for Anders but it’s like screaming into a black hole. The sound of his voice simply disappears. 

“Nothing. How is that even possible?” Mike asks and looks at Olaf and Ingrid.

“Maybe they know of the parsley trick as well?” Colin suggests, earning himself a few glares. “What? I didn’t tell them. I don’t even know who ‘they’ are.”

“God hunters.” Stacey says, making everyone look at her. “I know we don’t want them to be, but who else would it be? Sure Anders has a gift for pissing people off, but he’s even better at calming them down again, so who else would want to kidnap him? And be desperate enough to do it straight from the operating table?”

“I don’t think they were god hunters. Sharpe and her goons came in just as I was about to heal Anders. She just crossed her arms and told me to go on with this knowing look in her eye.

I swear, she knew exactly what I was doing and who I am. Yet they just let me heal him and…” Her voice falters a moment. “Afterwards they just ignored me, did some kind of cheek of Anders, transferred him to a gurney and left. God hunters would not have done that. They would have attacked us on the spot and left us both dead.

The only thing remotely positive I can think of is that whoever they are and whatever they have planned, the apparently need Anders alive to accomplish it.”

“That still leaves a lot of very unpleasant and disturbing options for who they are and what they could have planned for him.” Ingrid says.

“I think we need to know exactly what happened in that operating room.” Mike suggests and the others concur.

 

*****Flashback*****

Every machine and device in the room is either completely dark or sparking with electricity. Several of her colleagues are scattered around on the floor, all clearly unconscious. And in the middle, lying on the table with no movement at all, not even to draw breath is…

“Anders!”

She runs over, already drawing power from Yggdrasil. 

To hell with subtlety and discretion, to hell with getting into trouble trying to explain away a miracle recovery, they can deal with that later. What’s important now is to make sure Anders has a later.

“Live, damn you, live.” She prays and places on hand on his forehead, the other over his heart.

The by now familiar glow starts to appear around her hands when the sound of people entering startles her and she instinctively raises her hands and grasps Yggdrasil in a defensive stance. 

She recognises Sharpe as one of her colleagues, but the two bulky looking men in porter’s uniforms she had no idea who was, though the ill fit of their uniforms told her they weren’t really hospital employees.

The fact that Sharpe merely gave the unconscious people on the floor a cursory glance, but her eyes lingered a good long moment on Anders before she levelled her gaze upon Michele confirmed her suspicion that this was anything but a normal cheek-up on a patient.

“What do you want?” Michele asked, casually resting one hand on Anders’s chest to feel for a heartbeat. Her own pulse speeding up when she felt nothing, not even blood flowing from the open wound of the incision.

“I want you to carry on.” Sharpe’s voice was unwavering, and her eyes held a spark of knowing. 

“What?” Michele wet her lips. ‘How could she know?’

“I want you to use that branch of Yggdrasil to heal the mortal body before it takes Bragi with it in death. That was what you were trying to accomplice, wasn’t it, Sjöfn?” 

Michele froze, her hand hovering over Anders throat.

“How…”

Sharpe lost her cool look. 

“Get on with it or we’ll lose them both!”

Michele knew Sharpe was right, she hated not knowing how the woman knew about her and Anders, but she knew she had to push that back for now and concentrate on bringing Anders back before it was too late even for Yggdrasil. 

Still, no way was she turning her back on those people, so she quickly moved to the other side of the operating table before she drew in a deep breath and drew on the power of Yggdrasil, once more placing one hand on Anders’ crown and one over his hearth. 

The soft light of the goddess emitted from her hands and she could feel it penetrating into the mortal flesh of the body on the table. However the tingling sensation of healing taking place failed to come. Frowning she added more push to it, feeding more power into the still flesh.

Then she felt something.

A slight nipping sensation at her fingertips. It felt not unlike that of fish if you put the pad of your finger to the water near feeding time. 

It became more of a tingle as it flowed slowly up her arms and filled her with a sensation of running hand in hand beneath the pale moonlight on dew covered meadows, butter slowly melting on a slice of freshly baked bread, the taste of fresh and crisp apples plucked straight from the tree, warm summer days swimming and playing, twirling around while singing along with the birds on high and falling down laughing. 

“Bragi…” She whispered and the sensation pulsed in recognition, caressing her and wrapping her in pleasurable sensation. 

She hadn’t even realised that she had closed her eyes until someone’s shoe made a squeaking sound as they shifted.

For a second her first instinct was to pull away, but the spirit of Bragi called to her, pleading for her help, and Michele felt Sjöfn shift, mentally pulling up her sleeves, and with renewed vigour she griped Yggdrasil more firmly under her arm and Pushed!

 

As horrific as the wounds and their creation had been, now it was impossible not to see the beauty and power hidden in them as the carvings in Anders’ flesh lit up with a smouldering light like molten gold making the letters seem to sway and dance to the glow as a honey like liquid shot through with rose colored splashes slowly flows like poison being drawn from a wound, yet still managing to somehow be beautiful. 

Slowly, as if by tracing the carving process in reverse, the letters faded away one by one with a little bluish white lightning spark as they each disappear. 

There is a loud *crack* as broken ribs snap back into place, and a wet sound as ripped flesh starts knitting.

Michelle slowly lifts the hand on Anders head to remove the useless breathing tube. 

No sooner is it out than Anders takes a shuddering breath and the dull ‘flop’ sound of a lung inflating is heard. Followed by the sweet sound of deep even breathing. Bragi gives her one last cares starting to retract and Anders makes his first movement, by shifting his head a little to one side, as if to look at the people in the room, only his eyes are still firmly closed, but Michele sees his eyes begin moving behind the closed lids. 

Michele breaths out in relief and exhaustion, and prepares to remove her hand when she notices a very faint glowing emitting from the back of Anders neck. 

Looking closer she can see an intricate symbol interwoven with strange lettering. It looks Norse. Though why the god hunters would have carved it and why it hasn’t disappeared along with the rest she doesn’t know but determined to not do a half assed job she reaches out with her free hand and is just about to place it on the wound when a shout makes her look up.

 

*****

 

Skuld has been watching the proceedings with great interest. She had known that there was a goddess working in the hospital but which one and how her vessel looked she had not known until she had walked in to the operating room. 

While having Sjöfn heal Bragi’s vessel would make it infinitely easier to transport it to the place of the ritual without damaging it beyond repair, which had been a major concern of theirs. Having the god’s and goddesses aware and trying to interfere, or roots forbid, get involved, could complicate things, greatly.

Oh yes she had known the Johnsons and their companions for whom and what they were as soon as she had entered the waiting room. Though the fact that Bragi would still chose a mortal as his proxy had been baffling to say the least, it had given her time to act while the others were powerless to interfere. 

 

Tearing her mind back to the present she cast her fated eye upon the table and saw Sjöfn reach for the back of the vessels neck. The Bond!

“No!” Skuld yells and points at Sjöfn, making both her companions rush forward to restrain the goddess at the table.

 

******

“No!” Sharpe yelled and her companions rushed towards Michele.

And that’s when things got weird. 

 

******

Colin lifts an eyebrow.

“What, what came before wasn’t weird by your standards?”

Michele and Mike both give him a glare.

“Well…” Olaf starts but Ty schusses him.

“Not now grandpa.”

“Is it strange that I have a craving for popcorn?” Ingrid whispers to Stacey who face-palms and shakes her head. Though, if it’s because she doesn’t find it weird or because she thinks the question insane no one knows, could be both. 

“Shut up, all of you. Please continue Michele.” Axl says, voice deep with emotion yet calm.

 

*******

 

As the men rush towards her, her instinct is to jump back from the oncoming men and the operating table towards a more defensible position. Only she can’t!

The hand she still has placed over Anders’s heart feels as if it had been cemented into place. She tucks and pulls, only to feel Bragi twine around her arm, as if to get a firmer grip. And Anders seems to be as glued to the operating table as she is to him.

“Let go! Anders let go, I need to move!” She yells, but she is firmly stuck and Bragi is not letting her go. Realizing that she might be speaking to the wrong person she tries again. “Please Bragi.” 

The men have slowed down at seeing her struggle, and are now walking towards her wearing confident smirks.

“I helped you damn it!” She says, tears of anger and desperation beginning to spring into her eyes.

No response.

 

At least not at first. 

A thin tendril of warmth runs up her arm and neck to end up caressing her hear. 

‘The Stick.’

The words flow into her thoughts, and she’s not sure if they are hers or Bragi’s. Either way the Stick is her only weapon at the moment so she goes for the idea.

With a grunt of effort, Michele shifts Yggdrasil from under her arm to a firm grasp in her free hand.

 

******

 

Michele closes her eyes at the memory and shudders involuntarily. 

“Michele?” Mike asks, gently caressing one of her arms. “What happened?”

Michele’s voice is a whisper as she answers.

“As soon as I grasped the stick I felt something shoot out of Anders and through me. I don’t know what it was… I could feel Bragi embracing me like he was trying to isolate me from what was happening, I swear I could ‘feel’ hands covering my ears and then… It coursed through me like nothing I’ve ever known.” Michele says and looks at her hands as if she can still see traces of what it was.

“Power.” She says and looks up at the other again. He voice clearly relating the awe of what she is remembering. “Power so intense the whole room fairly vibrated with it. It was like throwing a switch, or rather like I completed a circuit. Like lightning going through me and out of the stick. Only, there was no visible lightning. It was like a shockwave of something unseen. It shot out, threw the other three into the walls and held them there. 

They screamed, I could see they were screaming in pain, but it was like I was deaf, no sound reached me except for my own blood rushing through my veins.

Then it let up, and they fell to the floor. I could feel the vibrations in Anders chest as he said something, eyes still closed and unmoving except for his lips. Sharpe answered him and made some sign over her forehead and heart, not too unlike the sign of the cross but not it. Bragi said something again and started to let me go again.

I was just about to see if I could move my hand when I felt something shoot through me again. Only it felt ‘nothing’ like Bragi. It was like standing outside in the biggest most spectacular thunderstorm you can imagine. Ice cold rain drenching you, and everything loaded with electricity. 

And then… then the lightning hit me.” 

 

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ******  
> I know they said only goddesses can use ‘the stick’, but ‘stick’ around (ohh the pun!)and you’ll get an explanation…maybe. 
> 
> As for the constant cliffies? Well I seem to be unable to end a chapter in any other way. Sorry.
> 
> I’d like to thank so many people for taking the time to leave a comment. You guys are the ones that keep me typing as fast as I am. Cheers!


	12. Back In The U.S.S.R.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then Bragi visibly started to let go of Sjöfn… and that’s when a crack appeared in the bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations can be found at the end.

*****

 

Peace is not the absence of conflict,  
it is the ability to handle conflict by peaceful means.  
\- Ronald Reagan

 

****

 

“Let go! Anders let go, I need to move!” 

Skuld smiled as Sjöfn struggled to get lose. Seemed Bragi knew that the Bond was weakening as well, and wanted to have it strengthened. 

“Please Bragi.” 

Her abettors seemed to have come to the same conclusion as they slowed their rush to a leisurely swagger. No need to rush when Bragi held her. He obviously knew something about what was going on and wanted to aid them. It was even possible he remembered….

“I helped you damn it!”

Skuld gave a snort. Pitiful. How could she call herself a goddess if she hadn’t learned yet that it was every deity for them self? Skuld was just about to tell Sjöfn as much when something unexpected happened. 

Sjöfn shifted, and now grasped Yggdrasil in one hand. And seconds before it happened Skuld could see what was about to unfold.

Bragi! The sneaky little bastard! He was using Sjöfn as a conduit, and drawing power from Yggdrasil! Clever though, very clever…

A blast of sound so loud you almost couldn’t hear it threw Skuld and her help into the walls and held them there. Vibrations of sound tore into them and pain like they had never known ripped through them. 

Skuld screamed. It felt like her cranium was about to implode under the pressure, her brain was on fire from the vibrations heating the water in the cell structure. At the same time her heart was beating erratically as if it was trying to escape her chest and the pressure building there. She couldn’t feel it, but she was sure her ears were bleeding too.

Just as she felt darkness beginning to creep in on her vision Bragi let them fall to the ground.

“La hende gá. Hon mä eigi lida mein.” Bragi’s voice sounded like a gentle whisper after the noise before. And indeed he had somehow shielded Sjöfn from the punishment he had just unleashed upon the rest of them. “La hende gá, eóa ek koma med deg.” 

Skuld knew that she had no choice but to do as the god commanded. Even if she’d had the power to fight him, she didn’t have the time. She could feel the bond flaring, as even as Bragi drew on Yggdrasil to boost his own powers, ‘something’ in the bond was drawing some of that power towards itself making the bond flicker. 

She quickly, if somewhat unsteadily, got up and did the sign of the unbreakable bond while speaking the words of sacred trust. 

“I dette er min hugr opnask, mit hjarta fastr eóa min vilja din at bjöda.” 

“Hell taka deg om du brjóta din eid.” Bragi finished, and for a second Skuld could have sworn she felt cold hands reach for her. The words and the oath were each powerful on their own and not to be trifled with, but when spoken to or by the God of words? Bragi’s current power might only be a mere fraction of what he was capable of when he had his full god power, but Skuld had no doubt that should she break this oath she would soon find herself in Niflheim.

Then Bragi visibly started to let go of Sjöfn… and that’s when a crack appeared in the bond.

Lightning coursed through the room, singeing everything it touched. Hitting the sprinkler system with such heat and force that it fused it, meaning that the fire alarm never vent of in spite of the many small fires that was springing forth in the room. The strewn bodies of the unconscious members of the surgical team, luckily not near any of these fires, though they were not completely spared the rage of the stray lightning jumping about the room. 

The body on the table twisted and wittered as most of the lightning concentrated around it and danced over it. 

Skuld could see the battle taking place was a fierce one. She could only hope the nearness of several Norse deities and Yggdrasil would enable Bragi to come out on top. But Bragi’s opponent was in no way a light weight, and Bragi, unlike almost every other god or goddess, had never been associated with fighting or warring. Yet if he failed, then the work of several decades would be wasted at best. And at worst… Skuld didn’t even dare think it. With the fact that victory was pivotal in mind she braved the pain and tried to push towards the body so she could strengthen the bond.

Still anchored to the body Sjöfn was screaming as the lightning coursed over her, both attacking Yggdrasil and trying to draw power from it.

 

Then something unexpected happened.

 

With a mighty roar Anders Johnson shot up and with a combined shock wave of sound and lightning pushed everybody back.

Sjöfn, having been the one that had been the closest was hit hard and slammed into the wall with enough force to nearly knock her completely senseless. 

“Enough!” Anders shouted and fairly glowed with a power all his own, as the twin forces inside him both retracted and slowly settled down, like shameful hounds having been told of and sent to their corner.

As the last tendril of visible, or visible to Skuld at least, power was fully retracted Anders deflated and, eyes rolling back into his skull, collapsed onto the table with an exhausted sigh, deeply unconscious.

Skuld fairly sprang to his side and placed her hand on the normally invisible mark that served as a seal to the bond. Pouring as much power as she dared into the seal she managed to close the crack, and the golden light of the mark slowly faded away until the only trace was very faint discolouring of the skin, that would likely stay there until they got the bond repaired and up to full strength. Something which wouldn’t happen unless they were swift about it. 

“We must move quickly. The seal has been damaged and can crack at any time.”

Placing a hand on the pulse point she let her senses cheek the condition of the mortal as well. 

She had expected him to be barely hanging in there after what she had just witnessed, but his pulse was surprisingly steady, if a little on the fast side.

“We can move him. Come on.” 

“And the goddess?” The nearest henchman asked, gesturing to where Sjöfn was blinking unintelligently by the wall, trying to gather her scattered senses back together.

“We leave her, unharmed. I gave Bragi my word. Now move before she wakes up fully!”

 

*****

 

“It hurt like nothing I have ever experienced. I know I was being attacked, but … somehow I was also being protected.” Michele explains and Mike dares to move closer and sneak an arm around her, and for once she lets herself be held without any complaint that it makes her seem vulnerable.

“How could it be both?” Stacey asks. 

“It was like this ‘thing’ was attacking me, or attacking Yggdrasil and I was just in the way. And Bragi was trying to get it to stop, like he threw himself somehow between most of it and me.”

At Colin’s sceptical look she throws out her arms.

“Well look at me! I was fucking electrocute, by Lightning no less! And all I have is a few bruises and some scorched scrubs. The surgical team had way worse wounds and burns and they were much, much farther from the lightning. Heck you should see the operating room it looks like a bomb went up in there… a big one. I’m rather surprised no one came running before they did.

Anyway, there was this surge and I was thrown into the wall. And well things get a bit fuzzy after that. There was someone shouting, Sharpe and her goons went to the table, more voices and they took Anders and left. After that I think I lost consciousness for a few seconds, I woke to the smell of burning wood. Seems even Yggdrasil doesn’t do too well with being hit by lightning. So I grabbed it and used the tab in the front room to spray it and put out the embers. And that, Olaf, is why the stick is wet.” She says and turns to the god in question. Clearly having remembered the god’s, at the time, rather unhelpful question. 

“Oh. So what do we do now?” Olaf says, eying the stick, which now that he knows what to look for, does seem to be a bit on the ‘well done’ side.

“You’re the Oracle you tell me.” Michele says.

“What about your colleagues? Won’t they ask questions?” Ingrid asks, always one to care about others.

“They’ll be fine. I bumped into a nurse as I was leaving the operating room, I told her I’d heard an explosion and went to have a look and that I had tripped over the surgeon as I entered the room so I’d managed to knock myself out as I hit the floor. And that I had no idea what had happened after or before that.”

“And she believed you?” Axl asked, finding it incredible that anyone would believe that of Michele. 

“Of course. I had the proof written all over my face after all.” She says and indicates the shiner. “She told me to go get it looked at, didn’t even comment on the stick or anything, so I came here to tell you. Now I’m going to go back so I can find out as much as I can about what happened before I came in, and see if I can’t make some of the more suspicious evidence disappear. Here you better take the stick home. I’ll call you if I learn anything useful, see you later.” She handed Mike the stick, gave him a quick kiss and left.

“Well,” Olaf said, “We better get going as well. We have to find out why Ullr’s powers don’t work and who took Anders.” 

“You can’t just all leave.” Colin said, earning himself a few glares.

“Why not, Anders isn’t even here anymore.” Axl asked, thinking Colin was rather missing the point if he wanted to wait on someone who wasn’t there to be waited on.

“No, but you don’t know that yet do you?” Colin asked.

“Yes I do, I…” Axl began.

“No, Axl we don’t.” Ty said. “No one has ‘told’ us that. So how would we have known unless we had something to do with what happened down the hall? Remember Michele isn’t even supposed to have been here after Anders went in.”

“Dawn saw her though.” Axl pointed out. Glad to finally be the one to point out holes in someone else’s plan.

“Yes but Dawn won’t tell anyone, and even if she did she’s not going to believe Michele had anything to do with Anders disappearing.” Ty explained. “Shit, what Are we going to tell Dawn?” Ty exclaimed and rubbed his hands over his eyes. Loosing Anders, again, was a nightmare in itself, but having to explain it to Dawn? Oh gods, he had soo hoped to be out of all this god shit. He just wanted his brother back and safe. If he could get that, he might even volunteer to try and explain things to Dawn. With Anders as a wing man in case he needed Bragi to step in and smoothed things over. Actually he’d just leave all the explaining to Anders and Bragi, he was so much better at dealing with upset Dawn, even if he didn’t like it when Anders used his powers on Dawn he would be willing to make an exception in that case. 

“We’ll figure that out later, we Have to concentrate all our efforts on finding Anders now. Now, as you just explained we can’t all leave, because that would be suspicious, but some of us can leave. That won’t seem too out of the ordinary. I suggest the Oracles go research this, I’ll get Shape’s home address from Michele and then Stacey and Axl will go have a look see. Maybe you can find some clues there, Stacey has shown good instinct for that in the past. I might not be able to track Sharpe or Anders like I normally would, but I’ll try and look for Kvasir, he should be able to help us if I manage to locate him. And if Colin and Ty promises to behave, yes you too Ty, then they can stay here and wait for news. That is unless you would rather help the oracles or Axl and Stacey?” Mike asks Colin.

“Oh no, I’m terrible at research, it’s why I have so many assistants, and a mayoral candidate committing a case of breaking and entering? No I think not. Besides, I’m much too excited to find out how the hospital will try to explain ‘misplacing’ a patient that couldn’t even walk. It should be rather entertaining. I’ll call Var and have her meet your oracles at the bar, that goddess does research like nobody else, and she knows most of the ancient texts plus she can actually read the old language.” 

Mike just gave him a look.

“What?”

“I haven’t heard you make that promise to behave yet.”

“Always focusing on the negative and being a spoil sport Mikkel. Very well, I promise to be on my very best behaviour while we wait.”

“That will have to do I suppose. And Ty?”

“Yeah, sure promise. Just let us know if you find anything okay?” Ty said, clearly not happy to be staying with Colin, but he knew that he was the best choice. Because leaving Axl, aka Odin alone with Loki? Not happening again anytime soon, or ever if he could help it. 

“We will. And everyone be careful, we don’t want anyone else going missing because of god hunters or who knows what else.” Mike added, reminding them all why they were here in the first place.

Everyone looks guilty, except maybe Colin, and their faces take on determined expressions.

With an exchange of nods and looks they are of. 

 

Ty and Colin sit in silence. 

Ty is surprised to realize that it’s actually not that tense, seems Colin is actually honouring the promise he made. For now at least. Ty knows better than to ever really let his guard down around Colin. 

After a few more minutes of silence Ty decides to brave it and ask a question that has been weighing on his mind ever since Colin agreed to help them.

“So why are you helping us?”

“What you don’t rust in my altruistic nature Tyrone? I’m shocked, and hurt, really it gets me right here.” Colin says and holds his hand over the right side of his chest.

Ty sighs.

“You do know the heart is on the other side right?”

“Of course I do. I never said you managed you to hurt me that deep, It takes rather more than insults to my nature to do that. You weren’t even close.” Colin says and smirks.

“No but seriously. From the way Mike says you ‘handled’ the last god hunter that crossed your path, I’d say you have little to fear from them, yet here you are. Even going so far as to get Var involved, despite the fact that you had more or less declared war on my family. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very glad of any help you can give, and even happier that you aren’t trying to kill anyone, but I’ll admit I don’t get it.”

“True, I dealt rather admirably with the last little problem. And while they don’t pose a serious threat to my life, anyone can get lucky or unlucky as the case goes. They are a nuisance that could grow if left unattended. Right now they are out for our lives, later they might try going for our anonymity and get us that way. Don’t get me wrong I love getting attention, but the mortals are clearly not ready to be told of our awesomeness yet. If it came out now it’s much more likely to end in ‘pitchforks and torches’ instead of worship and sex ad libitum. The sooner we deal with them the better.

If I had declared war on your family you would have known. But as it is Anders and that spry grandfather of yours haven’t done anything to offend me, and I don’t go after those that haven’t done me any wrong.”

“Ingrid was at my place when you torched it.” Ty reminded him. “Had she done anything to earn your wrath?”

Colin just sighed. 

“Ty, Ty, Ty. You just don’t seem to get it. If I had wanted to kill you that night, you would have died. I very much let you and her walk out of there.”

“Okay, yes I guess I can see that. So you are here to deal with the god hunters because they are a nuisance, glad we cleared that up.”

Colin sifted a little.

“Well, yes. And no.”

“No? Why no?”

“Because that isn’t the only reason, I was content to sit back and let those idiots burn them self out, if you’ll forgive me the pun, but they stepped over the line when they stole from me.” Colin’s eyes had taken on a stormy look and his voice a hard edge.

‘Stolen something?’ This was news to Ty.

“What did they steal?”

“Anders of course! He’s working for me and that makes him mine. And nobody, Nobody takes what’s mine and lives to regret it.” 

Ty saw flames in Colin’s eyes and smoke rising from some of the furniture in the room as he uttered the last sentence.

Swallowing and shifting nervously Ty said: “Right. Well, glad you are on our side this time.”

Colin breathed in deeply twice, then seemed to calm down.

“Yes.” Then he smiled. “Besides I rather like your brother. No one kisses ass with quite the same flair and talent as he does.”

Ty groaned.

“Oh please, please let that be in the metaphorical term, and not something you have him do.”

Colin just smirked knowingly, leaned his head back and laughed.

 

His laughter was just dying down when Michele entered the room casting Colin a suspicious glance she asked Ty: “What’s so funny?”

“Trust me, you Don’t want to know.”

“O-okay. Well I have good news and bad news.”

“Whichever way is fine.” Colin said, obviously feeling magnanimous after his good long laugh at the expense of Ty’s mental health and inner eye.

“I wasn’t giving you an option.” Michele smirked and went on. “Right. Good news: Everyone on the surgical team seems to be suffering from some king of memory loss concerning the whole incident.”

“What?” Ty asked. 

“Seems the combination of things going on in there, has wiped their memory of the whole thing and several hours leading up to it. The lightning also managed to fry the computers and cameras so there is no digital record of the surgery, and what little was left of the paper trail from the operation that didn’t burn out with the circuits, I managed to ‘procure’. So we are in the clear as far as that.” 

“Way to go Michele.” Ty said, finally something going their way.

“I’m good I know, but we still have a problem. Most of his blood work and fluid tests had gone out, meaning they are somewhere in the labs. I do not have access to those labs, nor could I go there without seeming out of character, I bloody hate the labs almost as much as I hate dealing with patients. So they will simply have to go through. I’ve done a quick ‘edit’ of his records, making it seem like he just had a run in with a stray dog. It was the best I could think of at the top of my head. They take a shit load of test for cases like that, and any extra or unusual tests can be written up as Anders being paranoid and wanting to cover his ass in every way. But still if any of the personnel that helped treat Anders when he first collapsed sees the writhe up on the tests, they are going to know something is wrong. I might be able to make them believe he asked for it to be written up like that though, if I tell them he was…” Michele trails of.

“That he was what?” Ty asks.

Michele sighs. Then bites the sour apple, looks Ty in the eyes and says: “If I tell them he was raped and too ashamed to admit it. We get several patients, especially men, who either won’t or can’t admit it when it happens to them. It’s the most plausible excuse Ty.” She says, sounding almost sorry.

Ty swallows. “Okay. You do that, Anders will understand.”

Michele nods and gives another sigh, she seems to be doing that a lot since she met the Johnsons.

“The last bit of news is a bit of a mixed blessing. Seems Sharpe weren’t all too keen on having the cop’s involved either, she managed to dismiss them so we won’t have to deal with them at least.”

“How is that in anyway mixed?” Colin asked.

“We know she’s not a god hunter, yet she knew about us both. Getting rid of the police tells us that whatever it is she wants’ from Anders it’s not going to be something he’d do or participate in willingly.” 

“I thought we knew that?” Ty said.

“No, we suspected. Fuck it. At least I managed to make it seem like he already cheeked out, so we can leave here and go help the others. I hope we find them very, very soon because I need to punch something or someone right now.” Michele growls, but can’t help a little smirk when Colin moves swiftly towards the door at her last words.

 

After Colin has excited Ty grabs Michele’s hand and stops her from reaching the door.

“What?”

“Was he?”

Michele decides to play dumb.

“Was who what?”

“Michele, you Know what I mean.”

“Ty, he’s your brother.”

“Exactly, and I need to know.”

“He’s my patient Ty, I can’t tell you stuff like that.”

“You’d only say that if he was…”

“Ty, I’d say that no matter what, it’s the law.”

“Damn it Michele! He’s my brother, he’s … he’s Anders Michele, and I have to know.”

“Ty I can’t.”

“You don’t have to say, just… just give me a sign either way. Please?”

Michele closes her eyes, Sjöfn shifts and cries out for the misuse of an act that should only be preformed with mutual pleasure in mind, and a single tear slips out under Michele’s lashes.

Ty exhales harshly and reaches a gentle finger out to catch the teardrop as it travels down Michele’s cheek and falls of her chin.

 

Ty is silent for a few moments except for more harsh breathing.

“I hope,” He begins and have to swallow before he can carry on, “I hope we find them soon to.”

Michele opens her eyes and gasps as she catches sight of Ty.

His eyes have gone dark and cold, and the tear on his fingertip sits still, frozen solid and sparkling under the fluorescent light.

“I want to find them, and I want to Crush them!” He says and clenches his fist, crushing the tiny tear into oblivion. 

 

*****

From her place on the wans floor Skuld can see the sun begin it’s slow descend behind the taller buildings as they speed away from the hospital. Well she can, if she cranes her neck and tilt her head just right and don’t mind the fact that any sideways movement of the wan threatens to send her toppling. 

A soft moan makes her look down at the man who’s head she’s cradling in her lap. The two of them is alone in the back both her helpers are seated in the front cabin. Skuld allows herself a small smile as she stroked the slightly damp forehead of the unconscious man. 

“All of that excretion and all you show is a mild fever. You’ve some strength in you Anders Johnson. I can see why you were chosen.”

Anders moans again as if in response and she smiles as she sweeps back an errant lock of hair. 

‘Yes, it would work out fine.’

 

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of Old Norse 
> 
> “La hende gá. Hon mä eigi lida mein.”  
> “Let her go. She must not suffer any hurt.” 
> 
> “La hende gá, eóa ek koma med deg.”  
> “Let her go, and I will come with you.”
> 
> “I dette er min hugr opnask, mit hjarta fastr eóa min vilja din at bjöda.”  
> “In this my thought is open, my heart is firm and my will is yours to command.”
> 
> “Hell taka deg om du brjóta din eid.”  
> "Hell take you if you break your oath."
> 
>  
> 
> And see? I’m getting better at posting longer chapters!  
> But honestly, which would you rather; more updates, but not so long. (1000+ Words) Or Longer chapters, but further apart? Just so I know, I aim to please you know.  
> Oh and I hope I'll be able to make some of the things you have been asking about clearer in the next few chapters.
> 
> As always hope you are still enjoying the fic. I know from some of your wonderful comments that most of you are at least, and it's for you I keep doing it at this, for me at least, accelerated pace.  
> You Guys are the best!
> 
> Cheers!


	13. Norwegian Wood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blame the parsley. I know I do.

*****

 

Flew in from Miami Beach BOAC,  
Didn't get to bed last night.  
On the way the paper bag was on my knee,  
Man, I had a dreadful flight.  
I'm back in the USSR.  
You don't know how lucky you are, boy,  
Back in the USSR, yeah

\- Lennon/McCartney

 

*****

 

When Axl and Stacey arrive at Mike’s place, they find both oracles and Var deeply submerged in a mess of obscure text’s, ancient tome’s and web pages filled with strange markings, flashing commercials and pop-up’s every few seconds. Stacey goes to stand behind Olaf who is insisting on working the computer despite them all knowing that he’s generally crap at anything remotely related to IT. 

“Where did all the literature come from?” Axl asks as he picks up a particularly ancient and dusty looking book. Its pages are yellow and brittle with age, and he quickly sets it down again at the look of disapproval Var sends him.

“Var brought it. Some of these books are older than dirt.” Olaf says and curses as he inadvertently clicks on one of the pop-ups. 

Stacey reaches over and closes the pages that are nothing but commercials for everything you can only be happy if you don’t have in your life. 

“Some of them nearly are dirt.” Axl mumbles, and holds up his hands in surrender when Var seems likely to throw the huge tome’ she’s holding at his head. Backing away slowly from the annoyed goddess he looks around for something productive to do.

 

“Have you found anything or found out anything as the case may be?” Michele asks as she, Ty and Colin enters only seconds after Axl gets Olaf to relent and let’s Axl take over the practical part of the internet search, with Olaf supplying the key words to guide them to something that would ‘hopefully’ be helpful.

“We found nothing. Not literally nothing, her house was completely furnished and all that, just… everything was covered in plastic or dust sheets. Even the bed was covered and the cupboards in the kitchen were empty of any food stuff, not even salt and pepper.” Axl said and shrugged. “It was kind of creepy actually.”

Stacey gave a nod. 

“I cheeked all the drawers and closets. Not even a lonely sock in a corner or a crumbled up receipt in a drawer or under the couch. We cheeked the garbage bin out front, empty. And going by the dust, no one has lived there for months, maybe even years. Total ghost house.” Stacey said and let that image sink in for everyone. “So,” She continued, “we did a little extra snooping. Go on Axl tell them how clever you were.” She said and nudged the young man in the rib.

Axl gave a crooked little grin. 

“I suggested we call in to the local real estate agent and ask about the house as potential buyers. Because who wouldn’t want to sell to a young couple like us?” He said and gestured at himself and Stacey who had put on her most ‘Christian housewife’ look. 

Stacey grinned, rather ruining her attempt at looking innocent. 

“It worked like a charm, the relater couldn’t dig up information fast enough. Seems the house belongs to a Anna Skogstad, only she hasn’t lived there in years, she’s been subletting it. And according to some of the neighbours the woman who’s been staying there lately does not seem to be exactly what she seems. Every so often she will be driven to the house by a car pool, but she never stays long in the house after being dropped off. She only wait’s a few minutes until after the car has left, then another car or a wan will drive up and she’ll leave in that.” Stacey smirked. “When the relater couldn’t help us any more we tried the neighbours. And we struck gold with old Mrs Hallan from across the street. She had called the police to get them to investigate her as a drug lord or something, but according to Mrs Hallan’s nurse she calls the police about everything under the sun, so they didn’t take her serious. Luckily for us, as batty as she was, she also keeps a mean log book of everything she sees from her window.” Stacey holds out a note for Ty to see.

“You got the license plates.”

“Yep. And a description of the different cars. We can have Mike try to track them once he gets back.” Stacey said and folded her arms with a satisfied look. 

“Or we could just call the vehicle registration and tell them that those car’s was involved in a minor collision with one of our car’s and that we need to find them for insurance purposes.” Olaf said, causing everyone to stare at him. 

“What? It works almost every time, especially if you go there and give them the lie. And add that you don’t want them to get in trouble with the police for leaving the scene because hey, the shock of hitting another car is not just something you deal with.” He gave a shrug. “Anders taught me that the third time some idiot decided to bump my car and just take off. I’m not exactly all that good at keeping up with paying my car insurance.”

“Now that I do believe.” Ty said as he shook his head.

“Why did you go to Anders with that in the first place? Why not just ask Ullr to track them?” Stacey asked.

“Mike used to be way more strict on using god powers, especially his own. Until recently I could count on one hand the number of times he’s used them. Anders has never been as strict about using his powers.” Olaf said.

“Understatement of the century.” Colin says from where he is eying Var’s ass. At the looks he earns himself, he just gives a crocked smirk. “If he had been even a fraction as uptight and boring as Mikkel I would never have hired him, Bragi or not.”

“Yes you seem truly heartbroken that he is gone.” Stacey says and shoots him a doubting glance. 

“First of all, handmaiden, do not presume to know me or my motivation, that is far above your level of comprehension. Neither should you let my gentle disposition fool you, I Will have my vengeance upon these incommodious hoodlums.” Then the smirk blossomed into a full on grin, and he winked at Ty as he said: “Besides, I paid good money for Anders oral skills, I’d rather like to be able to utilize them again.” 

Ty, and most of the others, groaned at the images Colin conjured up.

“That was So not an image I needed in my life. Thank you very much Colin.” Axl said and for a brief moment considered ‘accidentally’ clicking on of the adverts for ‘Busty Asian Beauties’ that keeps popping up, just to bleach the image away from his mind.

“Why whatever image would that be? All I did was praise your brothers skilled tongue.” Colin asked and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the embarrassment his words was causing.

“Are you Sure you aren’t just a little bit gay?” Michele asked a thoughtful look on her face.

“Now, now, no need to be like that Sjöfn. Just because you aren’t warming my bed, it does not mean that it has been left cold nor that I would fill it with a man.” Colin defended himself, looking slightly peeved that she would even suggest it.

“Could we pleas get back to what’s important here? I want to find my brother!” Ty bit out, voice dark and edged with impatient anger.

“Did it just get cold in here?” Axl asked, eyes widening as his breath came out in frost clouds. “Ty… you…?”

Ty sighed. “Yes, Hod is back. It doesn’t feel quite like before, which is nice, but that’s not important right now. Finding Anders is.” He turned so he had both Olaf and Ingrid in his line of vision. “So, what have you found?”

 

******

 

Lifting the bottle by its very bottom he held it up towards the setting sun, causing the golden rays of light to dance around as they caught the glass, turning the nearly opaque dusky green to a semi translucent emerald, and the liquid inside it a deep red sparkling ruby. The bottle was nearly empty, which only enhanced the beauty of what was still left. 

“Ah well, nothing lasts forever. Cheers.” He said, saluting the sun as if thanking for the good job it had done ripening the grapes so many years before and for the lovely evening it was slowly saying goodbye to and the warm night it was turning into. Bringing the bottle to his lips he tipped it and drank deep of the sweet and heady drops.

“You are a very hard man to find.” 

The deep voice coming from behind him made Kvasir cough in surprise, causing most of the wine to either spill or go down the wrong pipe. 

“That *cough* might be because I *cough* had no desire *cough* desire to be found.”

“Yeah well, consider yourself found. And before you even think of doing the water trick, don’t. I’m not in the mood to chase you anymore, and I need your help.” Mike said, his whole person fairly radiating a dark mood of irritation and impatience.

“What is it this time, not that ‘stop being a god’ shit again? Because that would make the waste of some mighty fine grapes even worse.”

“No. We need to know what can block Ullr’s powers.”

“Well they aren’t blocked now, or else you wouldn’t have found me.”

Rolling his eyes Mike answered.

“Well obviously. No I need to find my brother but for some reason I can’t get a whiff of either him or the woman he is presumably with.”

Kvasir grinned.

“What, did Odin do a runner with the ‘non Frigg’ girl? Though shit mate.” 

“No. It’s not Axl. Look just answer me: What could block Ullr’s powers like I have just described?”

Kvasir looked irritated. 

“If your ‘targets’ have surrounded themselves with parsley you can’t find them. The plant of the dead masks the scent of the living. Look I already told Balder this. Don’t you Johnsons ever listen or talk to each other? Or learn from your mistakes for that matter?”

“I knew about the parsley, and I’m not letting you piss unless it’s into a cup or that bottle there.” Mike said indicating the wine bottle Kvasir was still holding.

“Are you mad?! These are quality grapes!” Kvasir fairly hissed and clutched the bottle to his chest as if to protect it from what he considered an unusually cruel fate.

“For the love of… Fuck it I’ve wasted enough time tracking you down, I’m not going to waste more standing here arguing. Come on.” Mike said and graphed Kvasir’s arm.

“Hey, you can’t just grab people of the street like that and take them with you! Where are we going anyway?”

“We are going to the bar, the others are there, so we can get all the questions answered that may have come up in my absence. Now come on and I’ll replace that bottle with a full one.”

“Just one?”

Giving the older god a hard look as they buckled up Mike relented.

“Behave, don’t try to lead us behind the light, and we’ll see how many you earn.”

“Deal.” Kvasir said and settled in for the ride. After all, only a fool would turn down free alcohol and he was Kvasir, wisest of the God’s and Goddesses of Asgard. 

 

******

 

“Well, we found out about Ullr’s powers, like what kinds of sports his powers won’t work on. But I’m afraid we couldn’t find anything specific about blocking his tracking ability except for the parsley trick.” Ingrid said and looked truly sorry. “But we’ll keep looking dear. We all want answers.” She placed a gentle hand on Ty’s arm and gave it a squeeze in comfort.

“I don’t really care too much for answers as long as we get Anders back.” Axl mumbled as he tried to make sense of the schematic over the family relationship of the gods and goddesses of Asgard that was currently displayed on screen. Though, why he was even looking at it he didn’t know.

“What about you?” Ty asked and turned to Var. The goddess just shrugged and shook her head.

“So the best lead we have is the license plates?” Ty asked, everyone gave a nod or a shrug. “I’ll call Mike and hear if he has had any better luck, and then maybe get some pizza or something, if we are going to be here all night we’ll need some food to keep us going.”

“There is a place just around the corner, that will save time, Mike has the menu somewhere around here.” Michele said and started rummaging around under the bar desk. “Got it, everyone find out what they want and Stacey can go get it.” 

“Hey!”

“You said it yourself; serving is in your nature.” Michele pointed out, sounding way too smug for the younger goddesses liking.

“Fine, but I’m not paying.”

“No that task will undoubtedly fall to me as usual.” Mike said as he and Kvasir walked in to the bar. “Have you found anything?”

Ty gave him a quick summary, though he left out the cover story that was actually more truth than lie, that Michele had come up with. “So the only real leads we have are the licence plates. You seemed to have had better luck than any of us. At least you found what you were looking for.”

“Hey, I’m a who not a what! And I’m standing right here you know.” Kvasir said, looking suitably disgruntled at being referred to as a thing. 

“Ty be nice, I know he’s not your favourite god or even person, but he might be able to help, and he promised to behave so you can too.” Mike said.

Ty grumbled and gave a reluctant nod. “Let’s just hope he’s better informed here than about getting rid of God’s, because that worked out great didn’t it?”

“Hey my information was correct. You chose to cast Hod out, so he left your body. And just as you chose to let him go, you chose to let him in again.”

“I didn’t chose to let him back in! He was just there!”

Kvasir smiled that annoying besserwisser smile of his.

“Yes, you were feeling angry, enraged even and your thoughts was upon dark deeds of I’m guessing vengeance?” 

Ty could only nod.

“And you didn’t just dismiss those thought, you let them in, let them fill you up and consume you, let yourself revel in what you had planned.”

“Yes.” Ty admitted much more reluctantly.

“And that’s when you let him in. Hod is everything cold and dark. Icy furry and dark thoughts of pain and vengeance are like a big neon sign to Hod. You invited him in and he’s going to stay.”

“But why hadn’t he moved on? Surely there must be other gods that has come of age?” Ty asked.

Kvasir gave a half laugh.

“In that short amount of time? Not bloody likely. Besides, once a spirit has had a host they can’t just jump to another as long as the mortal vessel is still around. It’s a merging of two spirits, god and mortal. The more compatible their personality’s, the stronger the bond will be. It’s not something you just go around breaking. If they are forced to separate they will always carry a piece of the other with them.  
Now if the god should try to enter a new vessel, the old and the new bond would come into conflict as the two mortals would be linked by the mind. And no mortals are meant to be linked like that.”

“What would happen if they were?” Michele asked.

“At best, the stronger personality bleeds over to the other causing an almost total loss of self. At worst they kill them self or each other. It has happened once or twice in the last thousand years, it’s never pretty.”

Axl swallowed nervously.

“So you are saying that even if Gaia were to get rid of Idun…”

“She could never really be Frigg? I’ll admit I don’t know the answer to that one. Mortal spirits are fragile things, it’s why there are so many suicides and such, but a god spirit, or goddess as the case would have it, those are powerful. Assuming that this Gaia person was even willing to risk it, and it is a risk even with Yggdrasil, which I still can’t fathom how you got a hold off, you would have to have found a way of making contact with Frigg’s spirit beforehand so she could standby to ‘fill the vacancy’ if you will. And that’s only if Frigg is not already out there in some other body. Or would even want to take on a body another goddess had already used.” Kvasir stroked his chin, deep in thought. “Would she still be part Idun I wonder? Always feeling a pull, however minute, towards Bragi? If nothing else it’s an intriguing thought, even if I can’t help you with the answers.”

Axl looks slightly green as Kvasir finishes. The thought that Gaia would actually have to die to get rid of Idun, and that even then it was uncertain if she could become Frigg. This was just a lot to take in. Too much possibly, especially with that last thought of Kvasir’s. ‘Having Gaia as his Frigg, but still having her yearning for Bragi? No, just no.’ But Axl was a little glad to finally be able to separate ‘yearning for Bragi’ and ‘yearning for Anders’… even if it was only in his head for now, and he knew he would properly lose it again if he saw the two of the kiss.

 

“Good to know if we ever become desperate enough to try that.” Michele said. “But what about Ullr? Who or what was blocking his powers? And why only concerning Anders and Sharpe, I mean he found you?”

“Look, aside from masking their sent with parsley I don’t know. Unless…”

“Unless what?” Mike gave Kvasir a hard look. “I already asked that question, and you only mentioned parsley.”

“No, you asked ‘What’ could block your powers, you never asked about ‘who’ could do it.”

“For the love of…!” Mike looked like he was about to strangle Kvasir, who quickly threw his hands up.

“It’s not my fault! I can only answer the questions that are posed to me, those are the rules! I don’t make them, I just have to follow them.”

“Fine then: Who could block my powers?”

“Fate.”

“Can I hit him? Please can I hit him?” Ty asked no one in particular. 

“Fate.” Olaf said and looked at Ingrid.

“Fate.” She repeated, the suddenly flapped her hands like a bird trying to take flight. “Oh fate! You mean the Norn!”  
Kvasir gave her a friendly and relived smile. 

“Finally someone who knows their history. Yes the Norn.”

“Thank you, though I thought they just watered the roots. I didn’t think they could actually influence fate like that?”

Kvasir looked at Axl.

“Can I interpret that as a question?”

Axl looked confused. “What?”

Kvasir rolled his eyes and mumbled. “The body of a child.” Then he gave Axl an irritated look. “Look, Odin set down the rules: I can only answer the question posed to me. If you let me be a bit more lose about the whole interpretation thing I’ll be able to elaborate a lot more. I really am trying to help you here.”

“Umm, yes sure then. As long as it’s to help us you can be a bit lose in the interpretation.” Axl said, right proud that he managed to restrict it so Kvasir could only use it to help.

“Thank you, it’s nice to see you’ve developed a little. The Norn have been tending the roots for centuries, through that time they have learned to ‘nudge’ the fates of people a little. It might just be enough to explain you not being able to track your brother.” 

“And where do we find the Norn?” Axl asked.

Kvasir gave him a disappointed look.

“Not so much development after all. The Norn tend to the roots, so naturally they will be by the roots.”

“Which roots?”

“The only roots worth mentioning in Norse mythology.” Colin said, and everyone followed his gaze as he turned his head to look at the object currently leaning against the shelves behind the bar.

“Yggdrasil.” Olaf said.

“No.” Axl said as the thought took root.

“Yes Axl, the Norn sit at the foot of the tree of life.”

“But, but that’s….”

 

******

 

“Champagne sir?” 

“I really shouldn’t… Oh go on, just the one then.” The big redhead smiled, and the stewardess relaxed as it made his whole demeanour change from ‘decidedly grumpy’ to ‘closely related to Santa Clause.’

“Here you go sir. Do let me know if you change your mind.” She smiled as she poured and served. She cast a glance at the man’s traveling companion, he had a paperback resting on one knee, but the blond man didn’t look like he would be reading anything or be wanting any refreshments any time soon. The poor dear looked completely tuckered out, head leaning towards his companion as he breathed deeply in sleep. 

The big man followed her gaze. 

“Ah, don’t expect you’ll have to get him anything, except maybe an aspirin later, he barely got the book out before he all but passed out.” The man chuckled. “You’ll have to forgive him though, he’s had a rough week. His brother just got married, to my girl, and he was both the best man and wedding planner. I don’t think he even made it to bed at all before we met up at the airport in Wellington. Wonderful wedding though, I must confess I rather made a fool of myself crying with all the brides maids, but then I’m allowed Sara is my only daughter.” The man’s face fairly shone with happiness and pride.

The stewardess smiled, glad that her first assessment of the gentleman had proven wrong.

“Would you like me to get him a pillow and blanket? Even in these first class chairs you can get a crick in your neck from lying like that.” She asked.

“That’s very thoughtful of you. I’m sure he’d like that very much, thank you.”

The stewardess gave him a smile and fetched the items. 

“Here you go sir, would you like some help?”

“Oh no, I raised five kids, I know how to do this, you just go on I’m sure that nice lady waving her glass around would like to get in contact with you.” The man replied at the same time he gently manipulated the sleeping man beside him into a better position. “There we go, nice and comfy.” He said as he placed the younger man’s hands above the blanket. Through it all the younger never even stirred, and had she not known better she would have said he was drugged. But they had strict controls before boarding and hey she’d had her fair share of hangovers from hell. Giving the pair one last smile, she turned and inwardly sighed as she made her way to the middle-aged woman who really was trying catching her attention by waving her empty champagne glass around. If the woman was already like this, it was a safe bet they would have to cut her off at some point during the flight.

“Ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking, we are currently climbing towards 35.000 ft at which altitude we will be cruising at 500 mph for the next approximately 9 hours until we reach our destination of Hong Kong. We are not expecting any turbulence at this point so fell free to unbuckle your seatbelts and stretch your legs, or just sit back and enjoy the ride. And thank you for choosing Malaysia Airlines.”

******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh come on, with this fic and my Beatles teamed titles, how could I NOT use Norwegian Wood at some point? ;-)  
> Yes I know they would have to have gone to Sydney for that flight, I'm working on the assumption that they have already been there.
> 
> I’m sorry for the long wait, the collective God’s and goddesses were being a pain, and I was trying out that fancy thing they call ‘sleep’. I’m afraid it was rather addicting.  
> It’s one of my longer chapters if that can in any way make up for the wait? And hopefully the quality is still ok.  
> Anyway, for those of you still here and following, thank you for your patience.
> 
> *Bonus*  
> The one who first spots the ‘kudos’ I have given to another of my favourite shows will earn them self a price in the form of a one-shot about (almost) anything they may wish. As long as it’s in this fandom, and it’s understood that I will have the right to concede defeat if the topic just won’t get me and my muse going…  
> Cheers!


	14. A Hard Days Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Norway.” Axl finishes and leans back in his chair. ‘Norway, that was like a million miles away on the other side of the globe.’ “How the fuck are we going to get to Norway?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is VERY mythology heavy. And not much besides talking will occur, but it is important stuff so you better listen. ;-) As always translations are at the end.

*******

Rarely do we find men who willingly engage in hard, solid thinking.  
There is an almost universal quest for easy answers and half-baked solutions.  
Nothing pains some people more than having to think.  
\- Martin Luther King. Jr.

*****

 

“Norway.” Axl finishes and leans back in his chair. ‘Norway, that was like a million miles away on the other side of the globe.’ “How the fuck are we going to get to Norway?”

“Getting there isn’t the problem Axl. We’ll just buy a ticket like everyone else, or I’ll win some. It’s what to do once we get to Norway that poses the real problem right now, well for those of us with a passport anyway. We can’t just all run from here to the airport and leap on a plane like a bunch of headless chickens,” Mike pointedly ignored Colin’s: “Forgoing the usual Johnson way in favour of actually using your heads? What a novel idea.” And continued: “We need to find out more about what we are up against first. I mean, if the Norn can hide Anders from Ullr all the way down here, how much more powerful are they going to be when they are right by Yggdrasil?”

“So you mean, even when we get there we won’t be able to find him?” Axl said, feeling a cloud of hopelessness settle over him.

“That’s exactly what I mean Axl. Fuck, Kvasir is there anything we can do to counter act the Norn’s meddling with my powers?”

“Well you could just look for Yggdrasil instead of your brother. Maybe they haven’t covered that angel.” Kvasir said from his place at the bar where he was looking over the different brands and labels. 

“I’ll get you a bottle later, for now just concentrate will you? Now you said if I concentrate on Yggdrasil I might be able to find it… will that work even if it’s all the way up in Norway?”

Kvasir shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It’s called ‘the world tree’ for a reason you know, it’s furthest root’s reach beyond the realm of mortals, so New Zealand should be covered there I think. Just remember you want the tree not the stick over there.” He said and pointed.

Mike gave a nod, then he closed his eyes and let his senses flow. For just a second he thought he saw an image of an old woman drawing water from a well. Before she turned sharply, looked right at him and gave a nearly toothless grin while wiggling her finger in a ‘naughty boy’ gesture.

Mike gasped as he was ‘shoved’ out of his scenting stage.

“Wow, that was weird.” 

“What? What did you see?” Everyone wanted to know.

“There was this old, as in really old, woman drawing water from a well, and she ‘saw’ me? Then she sort of told me off and pushed me away.”

“Then it properly was Wyrd.” Kvasir said.

Mike gave him an irritated look, but Ingrid cut him off before he could say anything.

“No Mike, he didn’t say weird. He said Wyrd, or Urdr as she was also known. She is one of the three most important and powerful of the Norn: Urdr, Verdandi and Skuld. They are the Norn that tends the well of Urdr, the well of fate, from which Yggdrasil drinks. The three of them tend more to the life tree than to the weaving of fates that the other Norn do. If she doesn’t want you to find Yggdrasil you never will.” 

“Damn it.” 

“So you can’t find it as Ullr, you’ll just have to try it with memories and good old human luck. And just maybe you’ll be able to find it again.” Kvasir said, actually trying to keep their spirits up for once.

“That’s assuming they haven’t tampered with my fate so I wouldn’t find it no matter what, and besides it wasn’t me that found Yggdrasil the first time.” 

“You didn’t? If you and Ullr didn’t find it then who did?”

“Anders did, Agnetha send him after it.” Olaf answered. 

“Anders? The one who is missing?” Kvasir asked.

“Yes the one who is missing. Haven’t you been paying any attention at all?” Ty asked, once more contemplating doing harm to the older god.

“Well you lot are just shit out of luck aren’t you? The one God among you that could find it has his powers blocked and the other is the one who is missing.” Then Kvasir frowned. “Wait a minute, Agnetha, as in Freya? Your mother?”

“Yes, what of it?” Ty asked. ‘If Kvasir started badmouthing mum he WAS going to punch him.’

“Why the hell would she send this Anders fellow when she presumably knew that you are Ullr?”

“She…” Mike began then found that he didn’t have a good answer. ‘I didn’t know she was my mother at the time?’ or ‘She didn’t trust me with it?’ Both seemed wrong despite the fact that they were true.

“Actually, that’s a very good question.” Axl said and sat back up in his chair. “Why would she do that? It couldn’t be for secrecy, after all Anders had barely made it to Norway before she revealed herself, so what was the point?”

“Well you never were her favourite person or even son, but that could hardly be enough of a reason?” Olaf asked, honest to a fault as usual.

“Hey! … okay so you are properly right there. But why turn to Anders? She was even less of a mother to him than she was to me?”

Ty looked about to say something when Olaf placed a hand on his shoulder.

“He’s right Ty. Elisabeth loved you very much, Axl too. But even from what little I saw, she was never a real mother to either of your older brothers.” The solemn look on Olaf’s face made Ty take an extra breath and think on it. 

‘Sure she and Mike had yelled at each other a lot, almost as much as her and dad had yelled at each other, only Mike had Never hit mum. But they had been good otherwise right?’ As Ty thought it over he realized that Olaf was right. Mum hadn’t really ever been more than civil towards Mike. Anders? Anders had once asked Ty what it was like to have a mother that loved you? Ty had laughed at him at the time, but looking at it now he could see where Anders was coming from. ‘Well shit.’ He thought and drew a hand across his face.

 

“How on earth did he manage to find it? The only way to find Yggdrasil is if you already know where it is, or if someone how knows takes you.” 

“Anders said something about a bird man being his guide at some point? Could that be it?” Ty said, thinking back on what Anders had said that day so long ago about his: Epic quest. ‘Seems it really had been a quest.’

“Bird man? No not if it’s the one I think it is, he would never talk to a god or goddess. Unless… who is your brother?” 

“Anders, we just told you.” Axl said causing Kvasir to roll his eyes and look towards the heavens with a: See? This is what you give me to work with!’ look.

“He meant which God he is you cretin.” Colin said and had he not been as dignified a god as he was, he too would have rolled his eyes. “Bragi.” He answered Kvasir’s question. “Anders Johnson is Bragi. I wouldn’t have hired him if not for his powers of persuasion, no matter how charming his personality.” Colin said and crossed his arms.

“Bragi?” Kvasir looked at them doubtingly. “And he’s working for Loki? Are you having a laugh?” He said sounding cross.

“No. What’s so strange about Anders being Bragi?”

“Oh nothing, I’m sure your brother and Bragi share many a fine quality, but working for Loki? No offence Loki, but you and Bragi don’t traditionally get along al that well.” Kvasir said and sounded genuinely fascinated by this new development. 

“Why shouldn’t they get along? Aside from both of them tending to be little shits most of the time?” Stacey asked earning herself a few glares, including one from Colin that turned into an amused smirk when all she did in return was give him a: ‘It’s the truth, what do you want me to do about it?’ look and a shrug of her shoulders. Brave girl that one. He may just have to let her live awhile longer.

Kvasir gave a harsh laugh at her brash behaviour.

“No, because Bragi called Loki a liar, and refused to let him into Odin’s hall until Odin himself ordered it. And then Loki refused Bragi’s gestures of forgiveness and friendship and proceeded to called him a coward among other things. They haven’t exactly been close since then.”

His words were met by silence.

“Wait what?” Ty asked. “I thought Heimdall was the guardian of Asgard? ” 

“You know it’s nice to see you Johnsons have finally read up a little. And yes he is the guardian of Asgard. But Bragi was the one that guarded the entrance to Odin’s own hall. Sort of like Sct. Peters does for the Christians. With Bragi’s powers it was only natural.”

“How can poetry and sweet talk help you guard a hall?” Axl wanted to know. ‘No offence to Anders, but all things considered he wasn’t the bravest of souls, and Axl rather thought he’d like a well-defended hall if he ever became Odin.’

Kvasir let his head fall to the bar desk where he mumbled into the wood for time before he lifted his head up again. 

“You Johnsons make a wonderful team. Every time one of you shows of any learning, another of you jump in and shows of their ignorance. To call Bragi the god of sweet talk is like calling the ocean a rather large puddle.” Seeing the looks of total confusion or incomprehension on most of the faces before him Kvasir reached for the first bottle he came across, ‘Fenrir Vodka’, and poured himself a shot which he drowned in one.

“I’m going to intrepid that as a: Gee Kvasir what can you tell us about Bragi. So sit down kiddies, it’s time for today’s lesson in your own mythology. You already know today’s subject, there will be no test at the end of this lesson, but if you want figure out why the Norn have apparently seen fit to help someone kidnap Bragi you might want to listen.” He refilled his glass but only nipped at it before he settled back and began to speak. 

“When we say poetry today we think of Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Blake and such. You know something like ‘Shall I compare thee’ and ‘Tiger, tiger burning bright,’ but poetry is so much more. Poems, songs, saga’s, stories, fairy tales, folklore, it’s all poetry. In ancient times the brager or skald were the ones that brought the news of the world around the country. They told of great deeds or terrible tragedy, of romance and of folly. Of who had become king, and who had lost everything. Everything was in their tales and their songs. They were the entire social media of the time. Bragi is the god of these people. Today they are called journalists, authors, musicians and song writers. 

If it is typed, written, carved or chiselled then it’s Bragi’s domain. All song and music is his as well. As are, if you really break it down, all words and languages. 

Go back in the epos and you will find where it began; ‘the runes was shaved of Bragi’s tongue.’

What that meant is that before Bragi there was no common language, everyone only spoke their own language and so there could be no lasting peace or understanding between the Aesir, Vanier, Ettins or humans. Bragi gave us languages and letters, the means to share and preserve wisdom. He is the first god to share wisdom and learning with the mortals. 

It was this affinity for words and deeds that made him a perfect guard’s man. You can’t lie to Bragi because if you are speaking you are invoking his powers, and as much as modern fiction will have you believe otherwise, you can’t turn a god’s powers back on the god and defeat them. So no one could claim deeds they had not done, and gain entrance, neither could you claim you came in friendship if you didn’t, Bragi would always know. 

He really was the original: I’m a lover not a fighter.’ He would prefer to avoid conflict anyway he could, even running away before a challenge could be made if his was the only life or pride on the line. But make no mistake, he was by no means a coward. If the call came that he was needed he would show and if a challenge was made he would fight. 

You can lie to Anders and get away with it, because his power isn’t at its full. But I bet you he is a real astute judge of character. 

If you swear an oath to Bragi it is like swearing on to Var.” Kvasir gestured to where the goddess of contracts was standing as he continued. “Break that oath, and you will suffer grievously, If you live long enough to suffer that is.

And think about it: What is more powerful in today’s world than words? One little rumour, and the stocks crash, bringing about a worldwide financial crisis? Or a politician is brought down by accusations of corruption? 

Words Are Powerful. 

Not so minor a god after all eh?” He said and took a large drink from his glass.

 

There was silence as Kvasir’s words sank in.

“But I thought… I’ve always thought, and learned, that you, Kvasir, was the god of wisdom and learning, the wisest of the gods?” Ingrid said, seizing hold of the one question that she felt was within her grasp after Kvasir’s revelations. 

“And I am. As Kvasir I was created from the spit of all the Aesir and Vanier, they were made to spit into the same jug as a gesture of peace, mixing body fluids mad them kin, and kin slaying is chief amongst the things considered a crime in Asgard, so peace was reached, with the addition of an exchange of ‘free hostages’ to live among the other tribe, but that’s another story, back to me. The spit was considered too valuable to waste so by the powers of all the gods and goddesses Kvasir was created from it, containing all their knowledge and wisdom Kvasir set out to teach the world. Unfortunately that first body was slain by a pair of dwarfs that used the blood of that husk to make mead. The Mead of Poetry. This was then shared among both god’s and mortals, Odin drinking more than his fair share, and the power of poetry was thusly spread to mortals as well. 

Bragi was the one who found the murder most foul, as the use of my blood prevented my soul from even entering Niflheim to find peace, and so he used his mastery of poetry to draw the essence of Kvasir from those that had partaken, yet still leave them the gift of poetry, and once he had gathered it all he remade me so I could once again count myself among the living. So as Kvasir I know more than Bragi, but the tools I use to share that knowledge are still his.”

“I’ find myself in the not unusual position of having to marvel at my own genius, for hiring Braig in the first place. I do however also find myself even more pissed that someone has stolen my golden goose. So answer me this before I lose my normally infinite patience, how do we get him back?” Colin asked as he steepled his fingers and leaned back in the chair, looking every inch the comic book super villain in his finely tailored suit.

“I’d say contacting the Norn and asking for their help would be a good place to start.” Kvasir said.

“Right. But first I think, Pizza. We have a long night ahead of us.” Olaf said, and for once everyone agreed. 

 

****

 

Anders wakes briefly when they are changing planes. He’s strapped to a gurney and a woman he vaguely remembers seeing somewhere before is speaking to a nervous looking young man.

“Haben Sie keine angst herr Schneider. Wir sind hier um zu helfen. Ich will nür diesen junge mann helfen seiner heimat zu erreichen. Dass verstehen sie doch?” The woman said in a calm and friendly tone.

“Aber die papiere sind nicht in ordnung.” The young man replied, eyes going from the papers he was holding to the gurney with Anders.

“Mein liber herr Schneider, wollen sie dieser mann von seine familie halten, nur wegen parpiere?”

Anders never hears the young man’s answer as he drifts off again, but he can’t find it in his heart to care. What did it matter to him where he was heading or how he was getting there when he mattered to no one? When not even Bragi, the one thing anyone cared about with him, could make them care enough to notice he was gone? No, better to drift of in dreams where everything was so much better than the bitter reality his life was. Better if he never woke at all….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the mythology is straight from the books, songs and sagas, I have put in very little of my own, and unless some of you really want to know which bits are my own I won’t tell.
> 
> German Translation:  
> “Haben Sie keine angst herr Schneider. Wir sind hier um zu helfen. Ich will nür diesen junge mann helfen seiner heimat zu erreichen. Dass verstehen sie doch?”  
> “Don’t you worry Mr Schneider. We are here to help. I only want to help this young man to get back home. I trust you can understand that?”
> 
> “Aber die papiere sind nicht in ordnung.”  
> “But the papers don’t check out.”
> 
> “Mein liber herr Schneider, wollen sie dieser mann von seine familie halten, nur wegen parpiere?”  
> “My dear Mr Schneider, do you really want to keep this young man from his family, just because of some papers?”
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry for the long wait and relative short chapter, time has been tight and the chapter itself was being a bitch (yes I can say that) but things should be better from Thursday and Friday, so I should be able to get the faster chapters out there.  
> Cheers to everyone still hanging in there, and don’t forget to check out ‘One Shot’s In The Dark’ for further insights into this universe. Some of those shots’ will contain spoilers and vital info for the story arc, If you know where to look. ;-)  
> Take care now!


	15. Working Like A Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How did we get so caught up in us self that we just … overlooked him?” Ty asked, eyes still closed, for which Axl was oddly grateful, he would have hated to have Ty level that earnest look of his at him and expect him to know.

*************

Never tell people how to do things.  
Tell them what to do and they will surprise you with their ingenuity.  
\- George S. Patton 

 

*****

Ty was staring at his slice of pizza like the soft pineapple and soggy ham had offended him. 

“Whatever it did I’m sure it’s regretting it right about now.” Axl said as he sat down beside him.

“What?”

“The pizza. You are giving it the evil eye.”

“If Anders had been here he’d said I was giving it ‘an icy-gaze’ or ‘the cold shoulder’.”

Axl snorted.

“He so would. He never could resist a pun at someone else’s expense.”

Ty flinched ever so slightly at Axl’s wording.

“Can’t.” Ty whispers and the air turn colder.

“What?”

“Can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Axl was thoroughly confused again, something that really was beginning to bother him more and more. 

Ty made an angry noise in the back of his throat and the slice of pizza froze over with ice crystals. Shoving away from the table Ty got up and quickly left the bar mumbling about fresh air.

“What did I say?” Axl asked the room at large, though most of its occupants were either deep in discussion or going over things in books or on the computer.

“Could.” Michele said as she put aside the book she had been leafing through, only earning one or two warning gazes from Var when it looked like she would turn a page with greasy fingers.

“What?” 

“Ty was correcting you on your use of words. It should be ‘Can’t’, present tense. ‘He can’t resist a pun’. If you say could, you are putting your brother in past tense indicating he is no longer among us.”

“But he isn’t….” He received a sharp look from Michele. “Oh you mean like,” Axl swallowed dryly, “you mean no longer with us as in … dead?” 

Michele gave a nod and sipped her soda. 

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

“I know Axl, and so does Ty. He’s just not in a place to be reminded that we don’t even know if Anders is dead or alive right now. Just give him a few minutes and if he’s not back then you go tell him so.”

“Yeah, guess we are all a bit high strung right now.” At the lifted eyebrow he received he held up his arms, palm out. “Okay, so maybe we are a lot high strung. I’ll better go talk to him now though. Mike won’t like him being out there on his own, not now.” Snatching the last ‘unfrozen’ piece of pizza and shoving it down his throat he headed out the same way Ty just had.

 

Ty is just outside the door, so Axl doesn’t have to go searching, which all things considered is a bit of a relief. 

“Ty, I, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Axl says and hold out a beer he’s liberated from under Mike’s nose. 

Ty sighs, accepts the beer, takes a big swing and looks at the pavement.

“I know you didn’t Axl. I overreacted.” He admits and gives Axl an apologetic half smile.

“A bit yes. But it’s totally understandable bro.” Axl hastened to reassure Ty, he didn’t want his brother even more upset.

“I just can’t believe we didn’t notice anything you know? We should have noticed he was missing, but not one of us did. He gets kidnapped, not once but twice, and we have no idea why it happened this second time, and we only think the Norn have something to do with it. He could be anywhere Axl, in the house next door, at some seedy warehouse, hell he could be at a spa for all we know, if he’s even in the city.” Ty brought his beer, which now sported ice crystals on the rim Axl’ noticed, to his forehead and closed his eyes for a second. “How did we get so caught up in us self that we just … overlooked him?” Ty asked, eyes still closed, for which Axl was oddly grateful, he would have hated to have Ty level that earnest look of his at him and expect him to know. 

“I was so mad at him. For the whole Gaia thing.” Axl admitted and took a swing of his own beer. “I should have let it go a long time ago, but I just couldn’t. It all seem so stupid now, I mean it wasn’t even his fault, but it wasn’t until we were standing in that stupid waiting room that I realized I’d let my wounded pride rule me, preventing me from listening to his explanations or even using my own head and eyes and just let it go. All that time being pissed and feeling sorry for myself, wanting him to be as hurt and miserable as I was.” Axl kicked at a crumpled up cigarette packet. “I wanted him gone, I wanted him out of the family, away so I never had to see, hear or deal with him ever again. And then Michele said he was gone and… it took me less than two second to go from that to just wanting him back. And I do so want him back Ty.” Axl was as close to tears as he’d been in a long time.

Ty pushed off the wall and went to embrace his brother.

“Me too bro, me too.”

 

“What a remarkably not quite but nearly there homo-erotic moment. It’s sad to see that not even your brother’s absence has managed to get you to act any more hetero sexual than usual.” Colin’s voice made them jump apart. 

“They are called feelings Colin. You might want to try them some time.” Axl bit out, face red in what he refused to call embarrassment. ‘He had a right to be brotherly affectionate damn it!’

“I’m very well acquainted with feelings. Pleasure, happiness, lust, pleasure, rage, impatiens. I’m trying out that last one right now dealing with you lot. Now come on in, my brilliant employee have found a ritual that should allow your so called oracle’s to communicate with the Norn.”

 

 

“Don’t tell me, we are going to the forest?” Was the first thing Axl asked as he entered the bar behind Ty.

“You are yes. You have to build a fire of holy wood and make an offering to the Norn to get their attention, wool and threads are the traditional offerings, as are finely made buckets, cauldrons, pots and such.” Kvasir said.

“Because they weaved the threads of life? And what was it, watered the roots of Yggdrasil?” Axl asked as he helped Stacey clean the table.

“There might be hope for us yet.” Kvasir said from his spot behind the bar where he was hackling with Mike over which bottles he would be leaving with.

“I would prefer it if you waited here, we might have more questions.” Mike said and conceded defeat on the issue of who would be the owner of the bottle of Fenrir.

“Knowing you lot, you will without a doubt have many questions. I’m just not sure it’s my place to answer them all. Part of the journey is discovering these things for yourself you know.”

“Says who?” Michele asked.

“Every good story around.” Olaf said giving Kvasir a slightly less hostile look than he was wont.

“It’s true dear.” Ingrid supplied as she wrapped something carefully in cloth. “The way to greater understanding off the world and your place in it, is always by discovering these truths yourself and learning that the world is just an extension off you and how to deal with it.” 

“Already knowing that, could we just skip to the part where the old wise man gives us the answer so we can get on with dealing with it?” Axl asked and looked at Kvasir. He’s played enough videogames to know how that worked.

“I’m not that keen on being called ‘old’, boy. And besides ‘the old man’ never gives you the answer he gives you some cryptic mumbo jumbo that makes you think so you can come to the right conclusion yourself.”

“Which is?”

“How in Asgard should I know? I’m not even sure I know the question anymore.”

“And you are the wisest. We are so screwed.” Stacey said as she swept the last crumbs of the table. 

“I’m a reflection of the collective knowledge of the God’s and Goddesses, looking at you lot it’s a wonder I know what I know.” Kvasir said and the third bottle disappeared into the folds of his coat. “So having upheld my end of the bargain and having received my just rewards, I’ll be off. But do let me know how it turns out, I’d rather like to meet a Bragi you know.”

“You haven’t meet Bragi before? I thought you’d said you’d meet almost all the god’s way back in the seventies, and that’s like ages ago.” Olaf asked.

“And now that I’ve meet an Odin I have, except for Bragi. Now go one, you have a lot of preparing to do before you can begin so best get to it. And please, please don’t call on me unless it’s absolutely necessary, trouble follows in you people’s wake like hungry wolf in a wounded deer’s. And me, personally? I have no desire to be eaten alive.” With that he hurried towards the door, but stopped just short of exiting it and turned to look at them all. “I nearly forgot to do the mumbo jumbo bit, right.” He cleared his throat, closed his eyes and seemed to sink into himself for a bit before he straightened and looked towards them but not really at any one of them. “Ask yourself only this: Are you seeking what you want, or do you want what you seek?” With those, fittingly cryptic words, Kvasir was out the front door in a flash, like he was afraid one of them would stop him. And if Mike had paid closer attention to the amount of bottles he was actually missing, instead of the number he ‘thought’ was missing, he might have done so. 

 

“Well, he got the mumbo jumbo bit down alright. Now, let’s get cracking, we do have a lot to do, he was right about that too. So where do we find… ‘Sacred wood for the purifying fire’?” Mike said as he read what Var had translated for them. 

 

*******

 

It’s completely dark and night has a firm grip by the time they have everything set up and ready in the forest.

Olaf and Ingrid have been learning the words, Ingrid tabbing into Yggdrasil via the stick so she’s much faster than Olaf, but for once Olaf is patient and focused and listens to what her and Var is saying. He wants to get this right.

Ty and Mike are walking the perimeter making sure no one is anywhere near, for the fourth time that hour, Colin is proving is helpful in providing fire, looking gleeful every time he gets Axl to throw another piece of wood on it and Stacy and Michele are weaving together a sort of rope from scraps of everyone present’s cloths. Stacey with a kind of serene look about her, Michele with the look of an angry cat sharpening it’s claws.

“I fucking hate house work.” She hisses, emphasising the cat likeness.

“I don’t mind.” Stacey says and reaches for another scrap of cloth. 

“Yeah well it’s in your genetics handmaiden, not in mine.”

Stacy draws back her hand from the pile of cloths as if it’s been burned.

“What?” Michele asks and leans over to take a look. It takes a second but she spots what Stacey must have touched. “Oh.” She puts the rope down and lift up the offending piece of fabric. 

“Is that…?” Stacey askes, morbidly fascinated as she gets a good look and immediately recognises it for what it is.

“It’s Anders’ shirt, the one he wore when he came into the hospital. I grabbed all his personal items when we left, and we need a piece of his clothing for the ritual. I, I didn’t think about the blood.” Michele says and caresses the shirt just beside one of the long red stains that goes down and across the whole of the back of the shirt.

“So much blood.” Stacey whispers and tentatively reaches out to touch the fabric again.

Michele watches as Stacey’s hand comes forth and fights the urge to draw the shirt to her and prevent anyone else from touching it. ‘Mine!’ part of her screams. ‘He came to me for help, what blood has been spilled is mine!’ Sjöfn growls but Michele is more practical and realistic so she lets Stacey take the shirt from her unresisting hands.

“Should we… I, it feels wrong to rip the shirt when you know what it went through, you know?” Stacey says and Sjöfn settles down, contend that Fulla and Stacey are not a threat to the traces of Bragi and Anders left behind on the shirt.

“Well weave it in like it is, without tearing it. It’s both fitting and a good way to send a message.” Ingrid says as she comes up behind them, traces of Yggdrasil’s power still coursing through her, and for a second she’s pure Snotra to Michele’s eyes, wise and ancient a true keeper of legends. 

“If we make this one twice as long, we can braid the shirt in and then loop the end to make it one rope?” Stacey asks and Ingrid smiles. 

“I’m sure that would work nicely Stacey, you really are quite good at this.”

“It’s what I do.” Stacey says and gives a half smile.

“And you do it so well babe.” Olaf says as he joins them beside the fire, giving her shoulder a squeeze as he sits down.

Everyone is silent as the goddesses finish their work, Michele leaving Stacey to do the finishing touches.

“There all done.” She says and presents the cloth rope to Olaf.

“Great. Mike, Ty?” Olaf calls, and the two appear from opposite sides of the clearing, silent like shadows of the night.

“That creeps me out you guys. You could make a little noise you know.” Axl says as he dust off his hands and stands up after throwing the last of the ash and apple tree twigs on the fire.

“We were trying not to be seen Axl, that was the whole point.” Mike says as he steps into the stone circle.

“Still, it is a little creepy, not needing torches and shit to see.” Stacey agrees with Axl.

“God of the hunt Stacey. I’m hardly going to walk into a tree.” Mike answers.

“All things cold and dark.” Ty adds and shrugs. “I’ve never had trouble seeing in the dark, though it does seem even easier this time around.” 

“Huh. Well it something to ponder later. Let’s get on with the ritual.” Olaf says and everyone goes to their places.

 

Ingrid and Olaf are just about to start chanting when a yell and the light of a flashlight penetrates the darkness.

“Hey! Heeeey!! You have to stop! Axl!!”

“Zeb?” Axl says and turns towards the noise and bouncing column of light coming ever closer. And sure enough Zeb come crashing into the clearing.

“Thank god’s you use the same clearing man, or I never would have found you.”

“Zeb what the hell are you doing here?” Axl asks bewildered and nervously eying both Mike and Colin.

“That’s a very good question.” Mike growls, and Zeb seem to come to his senses.

“Forgive me for intruding upon you ritual my lords and ladies. I wouldn’t do so without great cause. So… please don’t smite me?” Zeb said in his best, ‘noble voice’ as he too looks at Mike and Colin. The first rolls his eyes and the other smiles a wicked smile.

“Please, like I would smite you now? It would be like smiting someone’s pet, and a fairly well-mannered one at that. Go on, deliver your message mortal boy, some of us are important enough to have lives beside this.”

“Oh thanks.” Zeb looks around fascinated for a few seconds until Mike growls again in impatience and Zeb returns to himself. “Oh yes. You have to stop. The phone call said you have to stop.”

“What phone call? You drove all the way out here in the middle of the night to tell me you had a strange phone call that told you to stop?” Axl looked concerned. “Zeb, have you been eating mouldy burgers again?”

“No man! And that was like once. Besides the phone call wasn’t meant for me, she had a message for you, all of you.” Zeb said and indicated all the assembled deities. 

“She? She who?” Axl said.

 

 

****Some hours earlier****

 

Zeb is having a rough day. The health inspector has been after the burger place that he works at, because someone allegedly saw a mouse in the bathroom. ‘Like any self-respecting mouse would be caught anywhere near the bathroom, when it could just wander out back and be feed by the slightly demented homeless man always longing about.’ 

Still it does mean that everyone, Zeb included, have had to be extra careful and meticulous in their preparation and handling of the food. It also means that Zeb is not allowed to bring back the burgers that have ‘expired’ and therefore could not be served, so he hopes Axl has brought home something because he is starved by now. Entering the flat he hears a noise from the kitchen. 

“Axl, Ingrid. If either of you are in the kitchen making dinner I really will worship you. Even if it’s only baked beans … Oh.” He says as he sees the source of the noise. ‘Someone’ has apparently forgotten to close the window and the fridge, because the door is open and the noise he heard is the sound of the neighbour’s cat having turned over the boxes of leftover Chinese and noisily eating it.

Normally Zeb likes animals, and he’s rather lose on hygiene and sanitary conditions, but having spend all day cleaning and sanitizing, washing hands again, and again and again while listening to the inspector droning on about health and safety of the customers? He can fairly see the bacteria crawling around the kitchen floor and fridge. It’s just too much. 

“Out! Out before I roast you!” he yells and waves his arms like a demented windmill. 

The cat, a truly ugly thing, makes a hasty retreat though the window, it’s long fur trailing noodle sauce all the way.

“Fuck!” Zeb exclaims looking out over the kitchen. He’ll have to clean everything now. Just this morning he would have just cleaned the ‘trail’ and the fridge, but after today he’ll have to do everything. “Great, just great.” He mumbles as he goes to work.

 

He’s busily scrubbing away cursing and mumbling: “Out, damned spot! out, I say!” when his phone starts ringing. Sadly it’s on vibrate, and it happily does so…. Right off the table and into the bucket of suds.   
“No!” He dives in after it and tips over the bucket in his haste, spilling dirty water on the newly clean floor.

“FUCK!” Zeb, has a feeling he’ll be saying that a lot today, and now the phone has stopped moving and seems to be dead. “Perfect.” He mumbles and is just about to throw it into the sink when it starts up again.

“What?!” He answers letting his irritation shine through.

The is silence on the other end for a few seconds and Zeb is just about to dismiss it as a prank call, which fits with the day he’s been having, when a familiar voice sounds.

“Zeb?”

Zeb freezes and forgets all about dirty floors.

“Gaia?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for being so slow I have a million excuses, none of them good though. So I'll give you my dear precious reader, another chance to win a one-shot, same rules as last time, name the source of the quote/special-item I snug in, and if you are right and among the first two, you get a shot.  
> Cheers!   
> And I'll try to be quicker with the update next time.


	16. There will be an answer, let it be.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over at the Tv a bunch of the smaller children were watching the Muppets Show. Kermit was singing a song about the difficulties of being green. Gaia snorted inwardly. ‘Not easy being green? You should try being a reincarnated goddess, then let’s see if you still think colour is your biggest problem.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations can, as always, be found in the notes at the end of the chapter.

************

Why not upset the apple cart?  
If you don’t, the apples will rot anyway.  
-Frank A. Clark

**********

 

Gaia is sitting in the children’s ward’s play room reading to a bunch of the older children.

“Then I rang the bell, and, as I hoped, the assistant answered it. We had never set eyes upon each other before. I hardly looked at his face. His knees were what I wished to see. You must yourself have remarked how worn, wrinkled, and stained they were.” The children hang on her words as she brings a world over a century past to life. Gaia smiles inside and out as she reads. 

It had hurt so much to uproot her entire life like that when the whole God business had happened to her.

She truly loved Axl, and then instead of becoming Frigg as they had hoped, she ended up with Idun. Destined bride of Bragi, Axl’s brother Anders. Someone she hardly knew but knew enough about by reputation to not like, and now she was bound to him for the rest of her life. The physical attraction between them though… that had been absolutely irresistible. She’d had visions of Anders everywhere she went, until she answered the sirens call and went to him. And oh gods the sex! Gaia felt her face grow warm as heat spiked for a second in her belly even thinking back on it. She quickly refocused on the story: “And how could you tell that they would make their attempt tonight?” 

Over at the Tv a bunch of the smaller children were watching the Muppets Show. Kermit was singing a song about the difficulties of being green. Gaia snorted inwardly. ‘Not easy being green? You should try being a reincarnated goddess, then let’s see if you still think colour is your biggest problem.’

“The end.”

“Awww!” Came the voices of several children. 

“One more?” More than one of them asked shooting her their best puppy eyes, causing her to laugh.

“No. I have to do my rounds, and you lot have lunch coming up. So off you go to your rooms, and I’ll see if I can make it tomorrow. That is If you behave and don’t drive your nurses crazy you rascals!” She said and bent down to tickle a few of the nearest children, causing them to squeal with laughter.

After hugs and promises to be back when she could she was released and quickly made her escape to do her rounds.

 

It was nearing dinner time when Gaia was finally able to make her way home to her little flat. 

Generally she was actually very happy in her new life. She had a job she loved and was very good at, she had colleagues that was both professionally competed and most of them also swiftly becoming good friends. Her flat was close to her work and overlooked a park, the local shopping centre just a corner away.

She was happy here, but she would still have been happier if she’d not been forced to leave. 

The feeling of something shifting inside her made her gasp. If she lived to be a hundred she didn’t think she’d ever get used to the feeling of the goddess accreting her presence.

“Shut it you. You’ve caused enough trouble for me. Especially lately, what’s with all those weird dreams? No, you know I don’t want to know, just stay quiet and still and we’ll be fine.” Gaia grumbled as she went about preparing dinner. 

Idun kept shifting and poking her consciousness trying to get Gaia to pay attention. 

The goddess had been extremely powerful when she’s been near her Bragi, but being separated from him like this after they had been together seemed to have made her much weaker and less able to assert her will upon Gaia.

“I’m Not interested, can’t you get that through your metaphysical skull?” Gaia huffed as she put the lasagne in the oven.

Idun settled, and Gaia could feel the petulant pout on the goddess’s non existing face. 

Gaia went to her couch to sit down and watch the news while dinner cooked, but her buttocks had barely touched the couch when Idun slammed all her ‘weight’ into Gaia’s subconscious mind. 

“Ahhhh!” Gaia screamed and closed her eyes clutching her head.

When she opened her eyes again she wasn’t in her living room but in an orchard. And she wasn’t alone either.

 

*******

 

“Gaia? Our Gaia?” Axl asked wanting to make sure.

Zeb gave a nod.

“She called you?”

“That’s what I just said yes.”

“Did she…” Axl wets his lips, he want so badly to know if Gaia asked about him, but he knows he can ask Zeb about that later, when he’s not running the risk of seeming pathetic in front of the collected gods and goddesses. So instead he settles for the more neutral: “What did she say?”

 

*******

 

“What the hell?”

“Nei, eigi Hell. Idun.”

“Idun.”

“Ja Idun. Gaia du skulu heyra pä mig. Hann hätta a deyja! Du mä hjálpa mek!”

Gaia stared at the woman in front of her. This, she knew somehow, this was how the first, the true, Idun had looked like. 

She was slender like a willow, though not much taller than Gaia herself, her long straight honey blond hair shot through with red highlights reached just below her waist, eyes as green as her apples of choice, lips full and a soft pink, perfectly straight and withe teeth, fair yet golden skin and an utterly charming dusting of nearly invisible freckles along her cheeks and across her nose. She was beautiful, and didn’t look a day older than twenty one herself, despite being thousands of years old.

“The goddess of eternal youth.” Gaia reminded herself out loud and Idun sighed in despair.

“Ja, ja heyra nu! Hann er sótt, heyra du? Sótt!”

”I’m sorry. I can’t understand you. Can’t you speak English?”

Idun looked distressed as she shook her head and looked around as if looking for inspiration. Then she lit up and she reached out her hand for Gaia to take.

Gaia was reluctant at first. But then, Idun was a part of her now, so she was hardly likely to hurt her, right?

Squaring her shoulders and gathering her courage she took the goddesses’ hand. 

Idun smiled at her and turned towards a small path tucking Gaia along. They walked for a few minutes in silence before they came upon a clearing of sorts.  
Idun pointed up and into the distance and Gaia followed her gaze. She gasped in shock at what she saw. What she had thought were mountains and hills were in fact the roots of a gigantic tree whose crown seemed to stretched to infinity and beyond. 

“Yggdrasil.” Idun said a longing note in her voice.

“Yggdrasil.” Gaia repeated, awed and humbled to see the world tree.

Idun gave a nod and dragged Gaia over towards a tree with dark green leaves and many, many branches bearing wild apples, red and yellow. 

“Ullr.” Idun said placed her hand on the log and repeated with an added word. “Ullr. Mike.” 

“Ullr.” Gaia repeated and Idun smiled and nodded. She then went to the tree just next to the Ullr tree. It was very tall apple tree with a nearly no leafs in it’s might crown yet a huge harvest of shiny red apples. 

“Balder.” Idun said and gave the tree a little cares. 

“Balder.” Gaia dutifully repeated again.

Idun let go of Gaia’s hand and went to pick and apple from each tree.

“Should, should you really do that?” Gaia asked. If the trees were part of the gods then surely picking the fruit couldn’t be good?

Idun looked supremely unimpressed at Gaia’s question and holding up one of the apples beside her face merely said. “Idun.”

“Oh, yes. Sorry, I’m being silly you would know all about apples.”

Idun gave a little nod that along with her expression clearly said: “You better believe it girlfriend.”

She handed Gaia the red apple and indicated she should take a bit.

Somewhat tentatively Gaia did.

“Oh my god. Oh this is so good, it tastes so fresh and it’s very sweet.”

Idun took the red apple and handed her the yellow one.

This time Gaia eagerly took a bite only to scrunch up almost immediately.

“Oh that’s, that’s kind of sour.” Gaia said and looked up at Idun who was trying her best not to laugh.

“You knew it would be! That’s not funny.” Gaia said, earning herself another look.

“Nei?”

“Okay so it Is funny. And, really, it’s not too bitter it’s just a shock after the other ones sweetness.”

“Ullr.” Idun said again and indicated the smaller tree. “Balder.” She said and indicated the tall one.

“Oh. OH! So the trees take on some of the characteristics of the god and person they are?”

Idun smiled, and pointed towards the leafless crown. “Balder.” She said again and made a ‘swoosh’ over her own head and lustrous hair, causing both women to laugh out loud as Gaia understood. ‘Balder the bald’.

 

As the laughter died down Idun became serious again. Once more she reached for Gaia’s hand and led her a little further down the path into another clearing, pointing out the trees that represented god’s and goddesses Gaia knew as they passed them. 

A huge apple tree commanded Gaia’s attention the second she rounded the corner into the next clearing.

It was tall and very broad, it’s branches thick, it’s leaved a lush spring green and it was full of the most beautiful white and pinkish apple blossoms so plentiful their fresh and sweet aroma lay thick over the clearing.

“Odin.” Idun said, and bowed to the tree. 

“Odin.” Gaia said and felt a sweet tuck of longing. “Axl.”

Idun gave a half resigned frown at the mention of Axl, but didn’t say or do anything. For which Gaia was humbly grateful. As much as Idun had stopped her and Axl from being together, Gaia had stopped Idun from getting her Bragi. 

The women looked at each other, then Idun shrugged. “At elska er at lida.”

Gaia still didn’t understand the language, but she thought she understood the message. And if she did, then she agreed wholeheartedly.

 

Then Idun got a very serious look on her face and pointed towards a small yet visibly well-traveled path just beside Odin’s tree.  
Gaia got the feeling that whatever had prompted Idun to take her on this journey was about to be revealed.

 

Turns out Idun don’t have to say a thing, Gaia knows the moment she enters the clearing which of the trees they are here for, and she knows who they are here for.

“Bragi.” The name is like a forbidden prayer rolling over her tongue and pouring out over her lips taking her breath with it and leaving her slightly lightheaded.

Idun walks past her and up to the tree.

The tree is slender, seeming more stretched than grown. As if it’s been growing in the shadow of bigger trees and had to hurry ‘upwards’ to capture a glimpse of the sun. Its bark is generally smooth yet littered with gnarled stumps where branches should have been. ‘Scared’ is the word popping up in Gaia’s head. Neither apple nor blossom can be seen on the tree. The leaves on its few branches are a dark, almost pine like, green. Like it is holding on to the life in the leaves and refusing to let autumn and the following winter come. 

Stepping closer still Gaia can see the streams of thick flowing sap are not one color, but rather a mix, like two separate liquids is leaking from the tree.

“Sótt.” Idun says indicating the sap looking sad.

“Sótt.” Gaia repeats.

Idun nods and rests the back of her hand on her forehead like she’s about to faint. “Sótt.”

“Sick? You mean Bragi is sick?”

Idun nods.

“So, is it Bragi or Anders that’s sick?”

“Bragi er sótt.”

“Bragi, right. But what can I do?”

Idun bends down and picks up a sharp rock. She then holds up her left hand palm out towards Gaia. “Bragi.” She says and points to the hand, the she slices across the palm with the rock leaving a painful looking gash behind. 

Gaia shrinks at how that must have hurt but Idun doesn’t as much as twitch an eyebrow.

“Sótt.” She says pointing at the gash. Waiting until Gaia indicates that she understands before continuing. 

“Johnsons.” She says, pronouncing the word in a flawless New Zealand accent, and proceeds to jab at her wounded hand with the sharp end of the rock making Gaia wince. 

“Okay, okay I get it, they are making it worse?”

Idun nods. Then she lets the rock drop to the ground and tears a long strip of her beautiful green robe.

“Norn.” She says holding up the cloth, which she then binds around the wounded hand.

“The Norn will help him?” Gaia ask, and Idun nods, but hold up a finger indicating she’s not done.

Once again she picks up the rock. “Norn, Johnsons.” And jabs the rock into the cloth making blood soak through. She holds up the rock for a second before she throws it as far away as she can.

“Norn ja. Johnson nei.” She says and unfolds the cloth revealing a flawlessly smooth palm, the wound having vanished.

“I get it. I have to get the Johnsons to let the Norn do their work?”

Idun’s smile is brilliant and light up her entire face as she nods. “Ja!”

“I’ll do what I can, I promise.” Gaia says and places a comforting hand on Idun’s arm.

“Tak.” The goddess says, leans in and places a kiss upon Gaia’s brow, causing a warm feeling to flow through the young woman. Gaia closes her eyes as the sensation over takes her. She breaths deeply then frowns. 

“Do you smell burnt chees?” Gaia asks then gasps as it feels like she’s falling.

Gaia’s eyes shoot open and she sits up from the floor, onto which she had fallen.

In the oven, her lasagna is slightly more well done than she normally likes.

 

***** 

 

“She said you guys need to stop trying to interfere. Something about letting the Norn do their work in peace or you’ll make what is wrong with Bragi worse.”

“But we have to do something. We can’t just let them kidnap Anders like that and not respond!” Mike says, and several of the assembled nods or murmur in agreement. 

“She said you could end up losing him for good if you don’t back off.” Zeb says and sound truly regretful. 

“How would Gaia know all this? Did the Norn contact her?” Olaf asks.

“Apparently Idun did a little kidnapping on her own. She forced Gaia into a dream world orchard at the foot of Yggdrasil, where the apple trees of all the god’s and goddesses of Asgard grows, and proceeded to take her on a guided tour that ended with Idun showing her that Bragi was sick and what would happen if you didn’t leave the Norn to their work.”

“Oh, I’ve been there. It’s really nice, except for the whole Bragi being sick thing.” Olaf said.

“And then she called you? Why didn’t she call me?” Axl asks, glad to hear Gaia is apparently getting along with her goddess, but sad and more than a little hurt that she felt she couldn’t call him personally.

“She did Axl. All she got was your voicemail. You really should try answering your phone once in a while, actually that goes for your entire family, that would have saved me from a heap of trouble and running around trying to find you lot in time to stop you. Oh and she asked me to say she was doing fine in case you asked, and that she misses us.” Zeb says looking at Axl. Then frowned.

“Is there more?” Ingrid asks. She lives with the boys so she knows the face Zeb is pulling is a ‘I’m not sure how to say this or if I should say this’ look.

“Yeah, but… it’s kind’a weird.”

“Considering the source, the choice of messenger and the recipients … well I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m just aflame with curiosity.” Colin says.

Zeb looks from Colin to Axl to Mike, the last of whom gives a nod. 

“If it’s anything about god business you better tell us.”

“Well I don’t know really. She said that you,” He points at Olaf, “are a really sweet person. And that you,” He points at Mike, “needs to lighten up before your apples become so sour they can’t even be used in cider.”

 

The stunned silence reigns supreme for a few second before a snigger is heard and then Colin throws his head back and laughs out loud. 

“Oh Mikkel, if only I had a camera. You really do look like you’ve just taken a bite of a very sour apple!”

Axl really wants to defend his brother, he does! But he can’t possibly be expected to keep a straight face when Colin is so spot on with his description of Mike’s current expression.

Most of the others are trying their darndest not to laugh out loud, even Var has a little smile hiding in the corner of her mouth. 

Mike sighs resignedly.

“Well, it seems we are cancelling tonight’s ritual. But before you lot of hyenas go ahead and let your laughs out, Zeb, did she say anything about What it is that is wrong with Bragi or when we will be getting Anders back?”

The young man shook his head no.

“Not a word. She only said you should let them do their thing.”

“Did you get her number?” Axl asks, causing everyone to look at him.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, so we can ask her more about what she knows. It’s clear that Idun knows more about what is going on than we do.”

“Which is really sad considering the fact that she’s not even in the country anymore.” Michele says, crossing her arms and glares at everyone assembled. She for one is not about to just forget what had happened to Anders just because Idun tells them to let the Norn have Bragi.

Clearly sensing the mounting hostility Zeb quickly jumps in.

“No she didn’t leave a number. And she called from a withheld number, so no help there either. But I’m sure she’ll let us know if she finds out anything about Bragi.”

“Or Anders.” Ty interjects, earning himself a look of acknowledgment from Michele, he too is equally, or maybe even more concerned for Anders than for Bragi right now. 

“Or about Anders.” Zeb agrees. “Gaia wouldn’t keep something like that to herself. She’s a good person.”

“Well if Idun says it’s what’s best for Bragi, then it must be. Let’s get the stones assembled and packed away.” Ingrid says putting an end to any further discussion for the moment at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Old Nors Translation:
> 
> “Nei, eigi Hell. Idun.”  
> “No, not Hell. Idun.” 
> 
> “Ja Idun. Gaia du skulu heyra pä mig. Hann hätta a deyja! Du mä hjálpa mek!”  
> “Yes Idun. Gaia you must listen to me. He at risk of dying! You must help me!” 
> 
> “Ja, ja heyra nu! Hann er sótt, heyra du? Sótt!”  
> “Yes, yes now listen! He is sick, do you hear? Sick!”
> 
> “At elska er at lida.”  
> “To love is to suffer.”
> 
> “Tak.”  
> “Thank you.”
> 
>  
> 
> Comments and reviews is pure love, which Mr. Lennon assures me is all I need.  
> Cheers! Aramir


	17. Act Naturally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which boxes are delivered, memories are refreshed, Axl is cute and oblivious and Anders finally gets a speaking role… even if he didn’t want it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, SO sorry for being so slow (I get to say it this time right?) Real life have been a real bother, and presented me with no less than Five birthdays I had to attend or otherwise celebrate, so yes very little time to do fic.   
> Plus ‘someone’ (you know who you are) presented me with a challenge that damn near killed me fic’ wise. I started to answer it then realized how long it would be, and I point blank refuse to let ‘One Shots’ become longer than the actual fic! So the only solution was to combine the two. This is the result. I can only hope it’s length will make up for the wait. Even if it IS a little different from the other chapters. (I trust You’ll live)  
>  ( **** ‘s indicate a ‘time-jump’ as this chapter takes place both in the past and in the present. )  
> Hopefully normal service will resume again now so I can get cracking.

*********

‘Yet I will try the last. Before my body  
I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff,  
And damn’d be him that first cries, “Hold, enough!”  
\- Macbeth’s final words. (William Shakespeare) 

*********

As comforting as it was to have Idun’s word that Bragi was in good hands, it still felt somehow demoralizing having to pack up without going through the ritual they had all work so hard to prepare for.

Mike, Ty and Michele especially felt twitchy at being left with nothing to do but wait.

“Come back to our place, we can get shitfaced while we think of something we can do that won’t cause the apple chick to freak out.” Michele said as they watched Colin and Var drive off heading for home and a ‘normal’ work day looming just over the horizon. Mike gave a nod as he packed the suitcase with the stones into the trunk of his car. 

“But Idun said…” Stacey began.

“Idun said not to interfere with the Norn. She said nothing about not finding Anders and Bragi in other ways, or finding out what is going on with them.” Ty said.

“Fair point. Plus somehow I don’t think it’s right for all of us to go our own ways right now. We need to stay together.” Ingrid said and clutched the back she had packed the cloth rope in.

“I agree, it feels like we have more to do.” Olaf said, his expression still much more serious than usual. 

“Yeah let’s go to Mike’s.” Axl agreed.

“Uhm. Should I go home or?” Zeb asked, clearly wanting to stay with Axl, yet uncertain of his welcome among the gods.

Everyone looked at Mike.

“He did drive all the way out here just to find us.” Olaf said.

“At risk of being BBQ’ed.” Stacey added.

Mike sighed.

“Sure, why the hell not. It’s not like Axl’s not going to tell him anyway.”

“Awesome!” Zeb exclaimed.

Mike gave him a stern look.

“If we tell you to go, you go without protest. And if you breathe one word…”

“They’ll never find the body, yes I know I promise.” 

 

 

Back at the bar there is a surprise waiting for them.

 

“Rob? What the hell, how did you get in?” Mike asks as he recognises the man sitting at the bar nursing a beer.

“The door was open.”

“Of course it was. So what did you want?” Mike isn’t quite ready to deal with Rob in general, but on top of everything else he’s dealing with today? No, no way. He just wants his ‘old friend’ out as quickly as humanly possible, or un-humanly possible if needs be, as long as it’s quick Mike isn’t picky right now.

“Can’t an old friend just stop by to say hello?”

“No, not when the situation is as it is, and not so late. Now what do you want?”

“I’m here to deliver some of the old stuff you had in the attic and the garage. We are expecting again so…” The death glare Michele sends him makes Rob trail of. “Yes, well we were going to mail what was yours, but once we went through it all there was a lot more stuff than we expected, so I decided to drive it here. It’s outside in the truck if you’ll just give me a hand unloading I’ll be on my way?”

“Look it’s, it’s good of you to want to bring me this stuff, but I took what I wanted when I left, the rest you can dump for all I care.”

Rob frowned. “Are you sure about that Mike? There was a lot of old family photos and stuff from your childhood. And even if you don’t want yours your brothers might like theirs.”

“We had stuff at your place?” Axl asked.

“Axl right?” Rob asked and reached out his hand, which Axl couldn’t really refuse to shake without being extremely rude.

“That’s right.”

“Well Axl there was about five boxes with your name on it. Val took a peak into every box I brought to cheek that the labels were correct, and you had very big hands even as a baby if the clay prints were correct.” 

“No way, you have Axl’s baby stuff?” Stacey grinned, this was too good to be true.

“And everyone else’s from the looks of things.” Rob confirmed.

“We’ll be happy to help you unload.” Ingrid said and shook Rob’s hand. “I’m Ingrid and it was a really nice gesture driving it all here. Most people would have thrown other peoples stuff out.” She gave Mike a pointed look, a look that reminded Mike of Elisabeth to a startling degree, and clearly told Mike to behave and make nice. 

Mike gave a reluctant shrug. “Okay, everyone go grab a box, we’ll have it unloaded in no time.”

Turned out Rob wasn’t exaggerating, there really were a truck load of boxes. Most of them labelled with one of the Johnson’s name but some just said ‘mixed stuff’. Rob was off the minute the last box touched the floorboards in the bar, saving everyone from more awkward moments between not quite former friends.

They have been thumbing through books and notes and typing away at the computer for only half an hour when the power suddenly cuts out and plummets everything into sudden darkness.

“Everyone stay where they are. I’ll go cheek the fuses.” Mike says. “There’s candles in one of the boxes under the bar Ty.” He shoots back as he goes towards the cellar with the fuse box.

He comes back about seven minutes later to a bar being illuminated by scores of lit candles and made strangely cosy with all the boxes and people milling about in the mess of building tools and such. 

“It’s not the fuses. There’s simply no power.”

“The entire street is dark.” Olaf says and heads back from the doorway where he’s been peeking outside.

“And it’s not just us either.” Zeb supplies and holds up his mobile, where a web page from the local news agency is already telling people that it’s the entire city that’s without power and that the police are asking everyone to stay in their homes and not to panic. That power will be restored as soon as possible.

“That’s very handy that.” Ingrid says and Zeb smiles, proud to be of help.

“I’ll show you how to set up yours for news updates if you like?” He offers and Ingrid happily agrees, she’s a quick study on computers and gadgets the exact opposite of Olaf as it seems. “Only I think we might want to wait until the power is back up before we do that. We don’t want the battery to go dead when we can’t charge it.” He says and packs the phone away.

Everyone settles down again, only this time they all have books, or simply discuss what they know.

After half an hour of getting nowhere and the power still not being back Michele sighs and looks at the book she’s been leafing through. “I hate to say this, but we aren’t going to get anything done tonight. We are just kidding us self’s by trying to read.”

Ty feels anger rising for a second but quickly gets a hold of it. She is right after all, with no power they can’t use the computer and the candles aren’t really enough to study the few texts they have by. The risk of missing something is too great as it is.

“She’s right.” Axl says, causing everyone to look at him. “But we all know we aren’t going to be able to drive home now and neither are we going to be able to sleep, so why don’t we start going through some of the boxes, if nothing else there is bound to be something to laugh at in there. And I for one could use a laugh right about now.” He suggests and everyone agrees.

Diving into the box nearest where he’s seated Olaf pulls out an old school flyer advertising the all school end of term Christmas party and dance, and that the School drama club will be preforming.

Olaf is just about to put the flyer down when he notices the name of the play is not only the usual: A Christmas Carol. But also: Famous Scenes from Shakespeare’s Plays.

‘Oh, That year.’ Olaf thinks and sighs, getting lost in his own little world as he remembers.

 

******

 

It’s pure dumb luck, or bad luck, whatever you want to call it, that landers Anders Johnson in the schools drama class. He certainly didn’t want to take drama!

At least Mrs Tran had looked regretful when she’d told him he couldn’t join the debate team. If anyone knows that Anders Johnson can deliver a compelling argument for nearly anything it’s his English teacher.

“I really wish I could let you join Anders, we could really use your ‘talents’. You’ were our best panellist last year.” Neither Mrs Tran nor Anders needs to say that they would have won in Wellington if Anders had been able to come along, but his dad had said they couldn’t afford it.

“But I thought I was in, it’s always been like that; unless you quit a class you will automatically get assigned to it next year!” Anders pleads. Debate club is one of the only classes he really likes, damn it!”

“I know, but the new principal, Skinner, has changed the rules. You have to sign in at the start of every year now. The note was passed around almost two weeks ago, last sign in was last Friday I’m afraid.”

“But, but I wasn’t in school then! I didn’t get any note.” Anders tries. He’d been bed ridden with a nasty case of asthmatic bronchitis from the Friday before the week the note was handed out until today, so he was already having to play catch up and now this? It wasn’t fucking fair. 

“I’m sorry Anders, maybe next year.” Mrs Tran says and pads his wrist. She’s noticed that he tenses up whenever someone move their hands to close to his face and shoulders, and if she could get him to talk and prove anything she’d have him away from those awful so called parents of his in a second. But as talented as Anders is at talking, he is even more talented at clamming up. And he’s very protective of his family, so she knows he’ll never complain, and the one time his former gym teacher decided to have a talk with the boy’s parents … absolutely nothing came of it. Mr Johnson had explained everything so well and the teacher just couldn’t find fault in what he’d said, even if he’d still been worried by the many bruises.

Mrs Tran truly is sorry she can’t help him, the best she can do is let him go to the school office in class time so they can help him find something else. 

The kindly secretary is very helpful, but as it is every year, every class worth attending, and also the ones that aren’t, is full.

Except Drama and the Rugby team. 

 

So, Drama it is.

Because really, Anders get beaten up enough as it is, he has no desire to volunteer himself for a beating at least twice a week for two hours straight, and that’s not counting the humiliation that will follow in the locker room after training or the fact that even if they would accept him on the team, he’d never get to play.

But how to tell the others that he would rather not join their idyllic world of sports where even dad will sometimes bad you on the shoulder and go; nice work son’? 

Maybe he can just keep quiet? After all they are hardly going to ask about it, why would they? Yes, that will work, Anders thinks and reluctantly ads Drama to his timetable. 

 

***********

 

“Who’s the kid in the rugby uniform with the trophy?” Stacey says and hold up a photo of a kid covered head to toe in mud, the only clearly visible feature being the clean teeth in the muddy face.

“Could be anyone of us. Can you see the number on the jersey?” Ty asks from where he and Mike are pouring drinks. Now that the power is off Hod is very much appreciated for keeping the ice cubes available.

“Ehr…. No. I… wait, is that a three or an eight?” Stacey asks Ingrid who’s digging through the box next to Stacey.

“That’s an eight dear.” She says after a few seconds and then looks at the happy child or young teen. “Aww so cute, all covered in mud and smiling like that.”

Ty grins and Mike groans.

“If it’s an eight is Mike.” 

Michele emerges from behind the book she’s been buried in ever since she found it in one of the boxes, at that and reaches out for the picture, which a grinning Stacey readily hands her. She holds it close to the candles on the table to get a better look and snorts at the goofy grin the kid sports.

“So, good at sports even before becoming god of the hunt and games. That’s nice, so did you all win trophies since that didn’t narrow it down for you, or were they just handed out to anyone that survived in your school?” Michele asks in her usual: ‘you do so not impress me Mr’ tone of voice.

Mike takes the picture from Michele. He remembers how happy he had been that day. He’d been so proud, and so had everyone else. One of the few times everyone in the family had agreed and been happy about it. ‘Such a long time ago.’ 

“The three of us that played on the school rugby team all helped win the local school tournament’s yes.” 

 

************

 

As he makes his way as discreetly as possible (i.e. Sneaking) to the school’s small theatre also known as the auditorium, for his first class the following Monday, Anders has no illusion that he isn’t going to have to struggle to stay awake in these classes.

He’s right. 

His class year is the earliest you can sign up for drama, but usually none of the parents allow it until the kids are at least 7’th graders, drama isn’t a real class in most adults eyes, So Anders at twelve is two years younger than everyone else. This means he’s generally ignored and left to himself even by the teacher. This suits Anders fine, as it gives him time to catch up on his homework and his reading. In fact he’s beginning to look forward to Drama because it gives him time to himself, which Anders realize he’s never really had. By the end of February Anders has not only caught up but is so far ahead in most of his other classes that if he wanted to he could sleep in class and still have a clear conscious. He doesn’t do that though, he opts for doing extra credit work, and his teachers are once again discussing whether or not he should be moved up a class or they should try recommending he be transferred to another school again, because he is not really learning as much as he is sliding along as it is. He’s simply too clever for the others of his year. Anders has already told Mrs. Tran that it won’t do them any good, his parents will just say no if it costs money, and the type of school his teacher has in mind will cost money.

So Anders knows that he is stuck at this school being bored unless something miraculous happens to change that.

It is in this boredom that he picks up a book at random one day in drama class and starts leafing through it. By the end of the class he asks his teacher if he can borrow it to bring home for the weekend. The teacher looks at him like he’s pulling a prank, but Anders is deadly serious. “Please, I have to know how it ends.” He says and the genuine ‘need to know’ is plain to see so the teacher lets him.

 

That weekend is one of the darkest, dreariest and most rain filled weekends they have ever seen. 

Mum and Axl have been away, yet again, for a week or two and comes back from their trip late on Friday, mum is in a foul mood only made fouler by dad forgetting it was today she was coming back, so she and Axl had to walk from the bus stop down by the main road, so they are both soaked when they make it up to the house. 

Axl think it is funny being wet and walking in the rain, mum does Not agree.

Dad is wise enough to apologize and offers to cook dinner while mum takes a hot bath. Mike is then saddled with taking Axl and giving him a bath in the small upstairs bathroom the boys share. Mike grumbles, but he’s actually pleased to see his baby brother again so he does the job at once.

 

Ty is just leaving his own room having drooped of his finished homework when he’s the victim of a streaker.

Axl runs past his door giggling like mad, a towel wrapped around his head obscuring his eyesight and nothing but drops of water covers the rest of his body. 

Axl barrels straight into Anders’ door, causing the door to slam open and Axl to topple backwards.

“Jesus Axl.” Ander exclaims and appears in the door way. “When I said you had to knock, I meant with your hands not your head. But it’s nice to see you at least wore a ‘helmet’ to cover it before you used it as a battering-ram. Very sensible choice that.” Anders says as he crouches before Axl and pads his towel ‘helmet’.

Axl’s lib had started wobbling, but as Anders speaks he starts giggling again.

“I’m a ram!”

“You certainly are. You are also wearing very little cloths. Did you run away while Mike was fetching your cloths?” Anders asks. 

“Yes!” Axl has no qualms admitting this, it’s the truth after all.

“Don’t you want to wear clothes?”

“No.” Axl says stubbornly, he’s happy as he is.

“Oh well that’s a shame. I was going to ask you if you wanted to help me feed the fish but you can’t do that in the buff. What would the fish think? So I guess I better feed them alone.”

“No! I’ll get dressed. Please wait?” Axl is all big eyes and pleading looks.

“Well… okay, but walk there, don’t run, I don’t think your helmet would help you if you tripped down the stairs by accident.”

“You’re silly.” Axl grins and lean forward to very gently bump his forehead against Anders’s, before he half walks half runs back to where Mike is standing in the doorway to the bathroom with a set of Axl’s cloths in hand, he makes a quick stop when he sees Ty to give him a very wet hug, making Ty squirm, Mike grin and Anders snicker. 

Once dressed and back in Anders room Axl is very careful when he’s helping Anders feed the fish, he knows that the fish has tiny little stomachs and if they get too much food they go belly up and die. Axl doesn’t want the fish to die, they are very pretty and Anders gets quiet and don’t want to play or talk when one of them dies.

He sprinkles the flakes as evenly as he can and looks to Anders for confirmation that he did good.

“Very good Axl, now what do we do?”

“We put the food away and go wash our hands.”

“Right, and no splashing, you only just got those cloths on.”

“Okay. Can we read after?” Obviously Axl can’t read but he likes it when others does, especially Anders because he lets him pick any book he want’s, even the magazines or junk mail they get, Anders just settles in and starts telling the story he sees in them. Mum nearly had a fit once when she saw Anders ‘reading’ The Shining to Axl, she was just about to yell at him when she overheard something about a unicorn giving a fairy with a broken wing a lift to the rainbow ball. That she knew was Not to be found in the book, yet Anders patiently and regularly turned the pages as if he was really reading it there. 

Before Anders gets to reply their dad shouts from down stairs.

“Boys! Set the table, dinner will be ready in a minute.”

 

*****

 

“Oh my god, you are just too cute for words!” Stacey exclaims in a voice that is ‘awww’ing all on its own. “I can’t believe that that’s Anders, look at those curls! And Axl, oh my gosh it’s hard to imagine you having ever been that tiny.” Stacey has obviously gotten the box with the lion’s share of pictures in it. The one she is currently looking at is of toddler Axl, lying on Anders stomach nearly asleep as Anders reads out loud from a book. 

Stacey is just about to show the picture to Ingrid when she frowns and leans in close to the picture. More specifically, at the book in Anders’s hand.

“Wait. Is that…?” Stacey hands Ty who is nearest to her the picture and point’s causing Ty’s whole face to turn into a grin as he sees what she’s noticed.

 

*****

 

It’s an unusually pleasant dinner. Mum is relaxed from her long bath and dad have made one of her favourites, so she is in good spirits and smiles a lot. Dad seems happy as well eating and listening to Axl as he tells all about the big city he’s seen and the animals in the zoo mum’s childhood friend took them to. Mike gives a nod or two when someone says something in his direction but is otherwise engaged with stuffing his mouth with amazing amounts of food. Ty asks Axl and mum questions about the trip and then tells Axl of the last time Ty was at the zoo and Mike threatened to feed Anders to the lions. Axl is suitably horrified and fascinated in turn, he’s a thankful audience Anders knows, but it’s still nice to see his baby brother point his fork, pasta still hanging of it, at Mike and say: “Bad brother!” When Ty retells the part where Mike had actually lifted Anders up and had him nearly halfway over the railing.

It’s properly why Anders is so agreeable afterwards to not only let Axl talk him into ‘reading’ him a story, but to having it take place in Anders’s room. Anders has missed his and Axl’s reading almost as much as Axl has if truth be told but when Axl finds and chooses the book that Anders has only just borrowed that very day, Anders has to ask him to find another one. He’s not sure he can concentrate on making up something appropriate for Axl if he has to page through ‘The Complete Works of William Shakespeare’ at the same time. Especially not when he still don’t know how it turns out for Macbeth. 

Axl is a bit confused, as he’s never gotten a ‘no’ before from Anders on his choice of book, but spying an old favourite he quickly forgets it and settles on the bed, pulling the top plaid over them both and snuggles up close to Anders with an expectant look. 

“Comfy?” Anders asks and lifts an eyebrow as Axl only stops wiggling closer when he is as close to lying on top of Anders as he can get without actually doing so.

“Yes. Story now please.” Axl demands and sighs in contentment when Anders begins the tail of ‘the tinder-Box’ in a version H.C. Andersen had never envisioned.

 

*****

 

“So he just made up something else?” Stacey asks when Ty and Axl explains that yes it IS in fact ‘The Shinning’ that Anders is reading from in the picture, and that no that had not been the story he’d been telling Axl at that time.

“Yes. Axl’s favourite bed time story until he was about seven was actually a mail order catalogue for power tools.” Mike grins and supplies. Causing Axl to groan in embarrassment, Zeb to exclaim: “Dude, that’s priceless!” and everyone else to laugh.

“So Anders was the one to read you your bedtime story? I never figured him for the parental type.” Ingrid muses and can’t help to smile as she looks at the picture again. 

“Yeah. He was great. He used to do the voices of everyone differently, and he was great at sound effects. I was actually disappointed when I saw my first Robin Hood movie, Anders’s version was much more fun.” Axl grins and Ty nods. 

“Plus you know, once you’ve heard the version of sleeping beauty where she scolds prince charming for waking her, calls him a pervert for kissing sleeping women he doesn’t know and then proceeds to knock him unconscious and have him thrown in the dungeon, you just don’t buy the Disney version anymore.” Ty adds, causing everyone to laugh again and Michele to smirk.

“That’s how he told it?” She asks.

“Every damn time.” Mike scowls, but everyone can see that there is no heat behind it. “Kid was a menace to the classics. In Red Riding Hood it was how sad it was that the poor wolf was killed just for following its nature and that the hunter should have been arrested for cruelty towards animals.”

“You know, I like your brother more and more.” Michele says.

“And I miss him more and more.” Axl says so quietly no one else hears as he gets his hands on the picture of him and his brother when everything had still been fine in Axl’s world.

 

*******

 

Monday sees Anders once again sitting in Drama class nose buried in the book he lent on Friday.

“So, still don’t know how it ends?” His teacher Mr Hunter asks as he set up for the class that is about to begin in a few minutes. 

“No, I know. I’m just re-reading it, you know in case I missed some of the subtleties.” Anders replies distractedly, mind clearly more than halfway to Scotland.

Hunter twitches, not sure if the kid is having him on or if he really is that absorbed in the book. Deciding to test the kid he asks him about the play. Anders knows the answer to every question, and can already quote long lines from it. In fact the two of them get so into their discussion that they both fail to notice the other students enter when class officially begin.

Mr Hunter is grinning inside as he claims that Macbeth is Shakespeare’s most boring work, utterly lacking in passion, and text worthy of being quoted, then stands back to see if the passion he senses in the kid will let lose.

It does.

 

“’I have liv’d long enough; my way of life  
Is fall’n into the sear, the yellow leaf;  
And that which should accompany old age,  
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,  
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,  
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath,  
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.’

How can you call that unworthy of repeating? How can you call such pain and bitter acceptance for passionless? Have you even tried to understand Macbeth? To see how he suffers for every decision he’s taken that he has let others point him to instead of choosing it for himself?” Anders bites out, entrancing his entire class with the way he recites the words. 

Mr Hunter is all smiles as he looks around at the other student’s that are all looking at ‘the kid’ in amazement and admiration, George Neville mumbling to his side man: “The force is strong with this one.”

“That’s it kid, you are no longer taking a back seat. You are now IN this class to pass.” Mr Hunter says and claps Anders on the shoulder, the glint in his eye makes Anders swallow nervously.

 

 

“Anders! Where have you been? We missed the bus because of you.” Ty accuses as Anders finally emerges from the school building.

“I was kept late in class. You should have just taken the bus Ty, now we’ll both be in trouble for being late.” Anders said as he sat down on the bench by the bus stop.

“I couldn’t just leave you. What, what if something happened?” Ty said, sounding slightly scared. It was only a few months since Anders had nearly choked to death before Ty’s eyes, and he was still very alert whenever Anders showed even the tiniest hint of discomfort or even cleared his throat.

Anders sighed, if Ty hadn’t been so sincere in his worry he would have lost his patience with his hovering long ago… that and it was kind of nice to know that someone cared enough to worry.

“I’m fine now Ty. I was only delayed in class, you can relax and stop your hovering. I promise to not die unless you are with me okay?” Anders said and gave a crocked grin. Ty was not impressed.

“That’s not funny Anders.” Ty huffed, and crossed his arms in a gesture of annoyance. Then after they had sat in silence for several minutes he elbowed his brother in the ribs, much gentler than he would have a few weeks ago, and smiled as he said: “I’ll take the promise though.” 

“Okay, as long as you lighten up.” Anders said and shoved back, considerably lighter than he normally would have as well.

“Deal.”

 

That had only been the first day of many where Anders would be late and eventually Anders persuaded Ty to simply take the bus alone every Monday and Friday, explaining to both Ty and his parents who had commented on his tardiness, that he was practising with his class. As Anders had had Debate Class that had kept him late several times last year, even taking him away on weekend’s they had accepted the explanation without any questions, just as Anders had counted on.

Everything had been fine for months, and would properly have continued to be so had Mike not decided to be a good brother and offer Anders a lift into town one evening.

“Why would I want to go into town?” Anders asked from where he and Ty was trying to teach Axl how to play ‘fish’, it wasn’t going too well because Axl kept telling them which cards he had so they wouldn’t have to fish.

“For the debate? Rob’s cousin is on the guest team, and he’s going so I thought we could bring you together, and Rob and I will pick you up after. You can debate the whole way there and back.” Mike said and smirked at Rob who had been there too.

“I… I’m not going Mike.”

“What? But why wouldn’t you go, you were the best on the team last year, or so you kept telling us.” Mike looked genuinely confused. “You aren’t sick again are you?” He asked, causing Ty to look up so quickly something in his neck goes *crack* loud enough that Axl whispered: “Ouch.”

“I’m FINE!” Anders bits out at Mike, and more quietly at Ty: “Really, I’m fine.” 

“Then why aren’t you going?”

“Why do you care?”

“Answer the damn question Anders.” Mike growls.

“Because I’m not on the team okay?” Anders answers, causing everyone but Axl, who’s busy cheating himself at cards, to look at him. Even mum has looked up from her sowing. 

“They kicked you? And here I thought talking was your one talent.” Dad says from his corner of the couch, before he goes back to watching television, cursing when the picture goes static for a few seconds.

Anders throws down his cards. “I’m done here, I’m going to bed, good night.” He says and head’s for the stairs. But mum gets up and stops him.

“I know you Anders, so tell me; what did you do to get yourself kicked of the team? Should I be expecting a phone call from the principal?”

“They didn’t kick me of the team.”

“Then what?” Mum has firm hold of Anders arm by now and her nails are biting into his flesh.

“I was never on the team okay!” Anders bites out sourly.

“Don’t take that tone with your mother young man, you will tell her right now what is going on or so help me…” Dad says as he gets up from the couch.

Anders tries to take a step back, but can’t.

“I’m not in Debate class.” He finally confesses.

“Then what, because you have to have an elective subject or the school would have let us know. And if you aren’t in debate where were you these last few Saturday’s?” Mum is getting really angry now.

“I’m… I’m taking Drama. We were preforming.” Anders confesses.

The silence is epic, and rules supreme until Mike let’s lose a snicker.

“Drama? Acting?” Mum asks and gives Anders a doubting look. 

Anders gives a stiff nod, he’s already admitted as much.

“So what are you putting on?” Mike asks, sounding like he really wants to know, so Anders tentatively starts to answer. 

“Well we…” 

But Rob interrupts.

“No let me guess. Snow white, and you are the littlest dwarf?” Anders clams up as the others laugh.

“No, no. I know: the wizard of Oz! And you are the king of the munchkins!” Mike suggests, causing even more laughter.

“Hmpf. If they are putting on ‘Oz’ he’ll be right for the fairy, he’s got the curls for it too. Only poofs play at acting, real men play sports.” Dad grumbles, and shoots Anders a disappointed and disgusted look before he turns back to the couch with a dismissive gesture. “Let the kid go to his room Elisabeth, he has to practise his lines I’m sure.”

And mum does let him go sighing and shaking her head. 

Anders has to utilize every trick he’s learned in class so far not to let them know how close he is to crying, as he turns and walks as dignified as he can up to his room.

When Axl comes to get his bedtime story later, Anders refuses to answer the door.

 

 

The following days Anders spends almost every moment he can either in school or in his own room. Every time he shows his face it’s as if Mike or his dreadful friend Rob is there to call out jokes about acting, gay’s and height. The heights jokes especially makes Anders want to jump them and beat the living daylights out of them, but alas he’s neither big nor strong enough and he knows it. So his best strategy lies in avoidance and when that fails or prove impossible, he does live in the same house as Mike, then pretending they don’t exist is the thing that works best. 

What really hurts him though is when Ty hit’s a growth spurt and starts in on the jokes as well. He’s now as tall as Anders is but as he’s younger he fell’s its right to call Anders ‘little’. In retaliation, Anders starts avoiding Ty as well and stops ‘speaking’ to him in the made up language they’d shared. This means that Ty now get hit by dad more often because Anders isn’t there to warn him and shift the focus to himself instead of his brother. The fact that their mother complains and tells dad off for hitting Ty is just the icing on the cake of misery his family seems determined to make him eat.

Only Axl remains his happy oblivious self, and, though he doesn’t know it, he’s the reason Anders does not go through with his thoughts of just leaving and running away from it all.

Instead Anders decides to show them that he Can do something besides argue, as his mother calls Debate. So he throws his soul into Drama and gives it everything he’s got, and as long as his chores and other homework gets done, and they don’t have to pay for anything, his parents lets him go away with his drama class as much as he wants. 

When December draws near Anders makes a point out of inviting the others to attend the end of year performance, a little bitter that the selling argument seems to be when he says: “At least you get to see what you’re making fun off.” But beggars can’t be choosers and as the bard said: The show must go on. 

 

******

 

“No way.” This time it’s Michele that’s found something. Which is sort of amazing, considering she’s been more busy reading than she has been with looking through boxes like the rest of them. Sure enough it’s in a book she’s found a couple of newspaper clippings. 

“What?” Axl asks, eager to find something that takes the focus away from where Stacey and Ingrid have found his earliest report cards. 

Michele lifts up the clipping and starts reading: 

‘Oliver Lives!

It’s been a longstanding theatre tradition to try out new productions on a test audience. A tradition that has come as a great treat to the selected audiences around the globe. 

This time it’s the Norshwood retirement home that has been offered a chance to see Norshwood school’s drama team preform Charles Dickens: Oliver Twist.’

Michele interrupts herself. “A lot of standard journalist small talk, bla, bla, bla info and such, then: ‘As much as every single one of these young hopefuls has their charm and talents, the absolute star of the show is blond and blue eyed Anders Johnson who’s Oliver is so convincing you find yourself rising to get him an extra bowl of gruel or defend him from the harsh words and cruel fists of the other characters. Most of the audience, this reporter included, had tears in their eyes several times during the show and the young actors all received a standing ovation, which is saying a lot in an retirement home.

When asked how long he’s been wanting to be an actor, Mr Johnson modestly answers: “I’ve never thought about becoming an actor. I wanted to be on the debate team, but got stuck with drama by a mix up. The other all have more experience than me, the only reason I’m Oliver is because I’m the shortest and youngest.”

We beg to differ Mr Johnson, and mix up or not we would like to quote the character you portrayed so brilliantly and ask: Pleas may we have some more?’”

 

Michele hand’s Mike the clipping as he reaches for it.

“Where did you find it?” He asks.

“It fell out when I opened the book.” Michele holds up the book. ‘The Complete Works of William Shakespeare.’ “There’s an inscription inside.” 

 

********

 

“Are you sure I can’t change your mind Anders?” Mr Hunter tries again as they sit in the dressing room behind the auditorium, everyone else have already changed and left for the holiday happy to see the end of another school year.

“I can barely show my face at home without someone cracking a joke at my expense. They might not have been any more supportive of me taking Debate than they were of Drama, but I could sit down at dinner and not have to defend my every move and word.” Anders says and fiddles with the crown he’s worn as Macbeth. “I never wanted to take Drama in the first place, it was all a mistake that I had to make the best of and now that the year is over I can apply for Debate again. They got crushed this year you know. And I’m good with ‘arguing’ so they need me, it’s nice to be needed and appreciated.” Anders sighs and throws the crown onto the table with a resigned expression. “I just wanted them to see that I was good at something, but they didn’t even show up, not even one of them.” Anders looks at the bits of fake blood he didn’t manage to scrub off before changing into Puck with a bit too much fascination for his teachers taste.

“You are my best student Anders. The best I’ve ever had to be honest and I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I think your talents are wasted on ‘arguing’ as you say. You could really go places if you make up your mind to do so.” Mr Hunter reaches for his bag and takes out a parcel wrapped in Christmas paper. “Since the year has officially ended, and you aren’t taking Drama next year no matter how much I wish you would, not only am I no longer you’re teacher I’m not going to be. So I’ve a supremely clear conscious giving you this.”

Anders looks at the parcel with big eyes, the pointy ears of Puck along with his golden curls, lending him a look of ethereal innocence.

“A present? For me?!” 

Mr Hunter’s smile is a little sad that any child should sound so disbelieving at getting a present.

“Yes, go on open it.”

Anders looks uncertain for a moment more, before he carefully opens the present, slow and methodical so the wrapping paper can be reused.

“Oh.” Anders says and for a second Mr Hunter thinks he’s made a mistake, then Anders gently cares the spine of the book and holds it close to his body. His eyes are bright as he looks up at his teacher. “Thank you so much.”

“You are welcome Anders.” Standing up he clasps the youths shoulder in a friendly gesture. “Remember that as much as you may only hear the bad things, there are also people out here that’s singing your praises. You only have to listen. Now why don’t you finish changing and head on home? It’s getting late.”

“Yes sir. And thank you.” Anders says reluctantly putting the book down and starts to change.

Just as Mr Hunter is about to close the door behind him Anders calls out again.

“Oh and Sir?” Once he sees he has his teacher’s attention his whole persona changes, he looks both poorly and much more happy than just a second ago and in a clear voice with a British accent exclaims: “God bless us, every one!” Then in a much more Anders tone: “And have a very merry Christmas.”

“You too ‘Tim’, you too.” Mr Hunter grins as he closes the door.

 

*********

 

“Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,  
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,  
Raze out written troubles of the brain  
And with some sweet antidote  
Cleanse the stuff’d bosom of that perilous stuff  
Which weighs upon the heart?’

Dear Anders while I’m no bard, I’m sure that if you choose to cast of that which keeps you down and focus on the positive, you could spread your wings and soar above us all. 

Spread your wings Anders, be free and be happy.

John Hunter.”

 

Mike reads aloud.

“I… I thought he sucked and that was why he shifted back after that year.” Ty breaks the silence as he gets up and looks at the picture accompanying the article. It shows ‘Oliver’ getting threatened by a much, much taller and broader ‘Fagin’ that Ty vaguely remembers had been five years his senior. Anders looks so much and so little like the boy he used to be in the picture that it makes Ty’s heart give a twinge of pain.

“No he was brilliant.” Olaf says from his seat, finally re-joining the conversation, causing everyone to look at him in amazement.

“You saw him act?” Ty asks, inexplicably jealous of his grandfather.

“When?” Mike wants to know.

“At the Christmas play’s. He wrote me a letter inviting me to come see if I was in the area at the time and I decided to be there.”

“Oh. I, think I remember that. We didn’t go that year. I can’t remember why though?” Ty says and looks at Mike, who can only shrug. He remembers that he’d been at Rob’s place at a party, and that’s why he didn’t go. Now that he thinks about it, it had been a really rotten thing to do. Especially since Anders had made a point of inviting them. 

“So who was he? Tiny Tim?” Mike asks, remembering back at both all the fun they’d had with height jokes at Anders’s expense and the schools persistence in putting that particular play on every Christmas. He’s actually starting to feel really bad about his behaviour back then. Most of the others snigger at the remark about ‘Tiny Tim’ but Olaf, can see that Mike had not meant it as a joke this time, and so looks remarkably serious as well when he answers.

“He was yes. He had everyone cheering when he said those last lines, and Not because the play was so bad they were glad it ended so don’t even go there.” Olaf says and lifts a forbidding finger at his grandsons and the goddesses. Then casually continuous with: “Though it really had nothing on his Macbeth or his Puck.”

“He… what?!” Ty exclaims.

Mike looks like he’s having a hard time believing Olaf.

Axl looks slightly lost and unwilling to show just how much he’s not following what was just said. 

Stacey does an imitation of a fish on water causing Ingrid to pound her on the back so she’ll breathe again.

And Michele sends her eyebrows into her hairline.

Only Zeb remains unfazed.

“That’s beyond cool man. Do you have any recordings we could watch? When the power is back on I mean. It would be epic watching a wee god of poetry act.”

Olaf scratches his chin in thought.

“There might actually be a video somewhere. If I remember correctly one of the teachers filmed it. We can see if it’s in one of the boxes.”

Michele digs into the one where she found the book, and after a minute or two she sits up holding a Video tape up. “Found it!” She exclaims at the same moment the lights flicker back on.

“Freaky.” Zeb comments as he blinks and looks up at the lights.

Axl can’t help but agree.

Mike refuses to believe in stuff like that, which is just ridiculous considering he’s the incarnation of a Norse god, so he’s a bit more practical.

“Right, I would suggest that everyone went home to get some sleep now and that we meet up in the morning to continue…” He get’s a chorus of ‘no’s’ and such, so he adds: “But I can tell that’s not going to happen, so why don’t you make some popcorn or something like that while I go hunt for the VCR. Ty you are on drinks duty. Axl and Grandpa you go get the TV down here, Axl knows where it is.”

 

Nearly three hours of laughter, tears and gasps later ‘Puck’ is before them on screen, seemingly looking directly at them as he addresses everyone in the audience.

 

“If we shadows have offended,  
Think but this, and all is mended,  
That you have but slumber'd here  
While these visions did appear.  
And this weak and idle theme,  
No more yielding but a dream,  
Gentles, do not reprehend:  
if you pardon, we will mend:  
And, as I am an honest Puck,  
If we have unearned luck  
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,  
We will make amends ere long;  
Else the Puck a liar call;  
So, good night unto you all.  
Give me your hands, if we be friends,  
And Robin shall restore amends.” 

And Puck bows to thundering applause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are still with me, and you weren’t terribly confused by my jumping in time? :-D  
> Originally I had decided to be kind to Anders, I think I’ve been quite rough with him, but then the little fucker said: “Who cares about Denmark? Denmark sucks.” And being Danish, that made me change my mind. Let him suffer some more. Whether this chapter will satisfy my bloodlust… only time will tell. 
> 
> I actually did Enormous amounts of research for this chapter. Even going so far as to cheek the NZ’ government page from the ministry of education to find out just how the school year is ‘down there’. And finding out whether or not they had a zoo in Wellington (you never know).  
> If you think doing both A Christmas Carol and Famous Scenes From Shakespeare is a lot for a school drama club, you are correct. But, it has been done before. Where I went to school the fifth grade was the one that had to put on a show of some kind (most commonly a play) for the school party. 
> 
> Also I wow that both the Norn and Anders of the present will be in the next chapter.
> 
> Reviews are nectar of the gods, keep the gods alive people!   
> Cheers Aramir.


	18. Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There will be Norn, Anders, Dawn, Flashbacks and ‘old friends’ making a reappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be mentions of Violence in this chapter, though nothing graphic.

********

Don’t tell fish stories where the people know you;  
But particularly, don’t tell them where they know the fish.  
\- Mark Twain

 

******

 

Verdandi is not one to be plagued by doubt, no Norn is, you do your job and the rest is up to the individual threads in the fabric of life.

Yet she can’t help but feel as if some doubt has indeed plagued her up until the moment that she hears the sound of raven’s crying out from the mouth of the ice cave that hides the door that leads to the under city of the Norn and the entrance to the well of Urdr.

Still one can never be too carful so she heads out to check. 

“You are back early brother. Tell me what have your eyes seen?” She asks the big red headed man standing there gently stroking the raven that sits on the icy ledge by the entrance.

“We have been successful, sister. I come before the others to give you time to prepare. Like the Valkyrie of old those that follow will crest the mountain’s peek to bring the stricken to the seat of life once more.” The man says and the raven flaps its wings in excitement. “And I shall see my brother returned to me from afar.” 

“Greet them well Huginn, and bring them to the chambers. I’ll tell Urdr that they will be here shortly.” Verdandi says but linger for a moment as the distant sound of a helicopter reaches them across the frozen land. ‘Cresting the mountain indeed.’ The Norn thinks and shakes her head. Huginn is all too fond of ‘high speech and lofty words’, but to each his own.   
Entering the tunnel she makes quick work of navigating the labyrinth that make up the ‘city walls’ of the Norn home. 

 

Her news that Skuld is back, comes as no surprise to Urdr. The oldest and most powerful of the Norn seems to always be in the know, and she has been weaving for days to prepare the special threads and bonds needed for the ritual, leaving the carrying of water to four of the younger Norn.

The fact that it takes four young Norn born people to do the work of the old Norn is just one of the reasons that the whisper that Urdr is the real Urdr from the time of the gods is widely believed among the Norn. Verdandi isn’t sure what to believe, she knows that close proximity to Yggdrasil and the well both rejuvenates and grants long life. And certainly Urdr, who looks as old as the mountains under which they reside, and is called ‘mother’ by all other Norn, is strong as any ten humans in their physical prime, but still…. Verdandi ponders as she follows the old Norn to the room where Huginn and Muninn are embracing each other as if they haven’t seen each other for decades instead of the one day since they parted way’s in Wellington because the sight of the identical twin giant redheads would draw unwanted attention to them when they were smuggling an unwilling person with them.

“Oh please.” Skuld says from the bed where she was securing the bindings holding their ‘visitor’ in place. “It’s not even been a day, if you weren’t twins and both of you married to good Norn wife’s I’d be accusing you of having an incestuous relationship.” 

“Hey!” Both men exclaim wearing twin expressions of mild outrage. 

“Don’t hey me, I know for a fact that you did a switch on me in Hong Kong. And that you tried to do the same in Copenhagen but you were foiled by that dope dog delaying you Muninn, what did you bring this time?” Skuld says as she tightens the last buckle and covers the lock. Their guest will be able to shift almost at will in the bed, and sit up if he so wishes, but he can’t leave the bed or bring his hands together to unbuckle the restrains. 

“It was oregano! Why do people never believe me when I tell them that?” Muninn said and threw out his arms in an offended gesture. 

“Because, brother dear, aside from you, everyone that says that is smuggling drugs. You are the only one who can’t leave home without your spice rack in your pocket.” Huginn said grinning at his brother, but then turning serious at a cough from the man on the bed. “How is he? He was slightly feverish when I last saw him in Hong Kong.”

“Let me true and I’ll let you know.” Urdr said, causing everyone to move aside for her.

Placing one of her gnarled but strong hands on Anders’s forehead she closed her eyes and mumbled ancient words under her breath for a moment before opening her eyes again.

“He has a fever alright, and though it attacks his body I fell it’s something deeper than that. Something has poisoned his life-flow. We can’t risk the ritual like this.” She gave the young man a thoughtful look. “Verdandi get me some of the sacred water that has run of the roots, and my white herb bag.”

“Yes mother.” Verdandi says and leaves at once.

“One of you go fetch me some apple juice.” Urdr says to the brothers. “And you Skuld, you tell me everything you know.” She finishes turning to her fellow Norn.

 

Urdr listens to Skuld’s tail of how she happened upon Bragi’s vessel and the sorry state he was in with great interest. Verdandi returns with the requested bag, a jug of water and a cloth in time to hear Skuld tell of how Bragi had manifested in his vessel and used Sjöfn as a conduit to draw power from Yggdrasil, how he had used that power and that he had protected the goddess from any harm. 

Urdr looks oddly pleased by Bragi’s ingenuity and desire to protect Sjöfn.

“You always were a clever one.” She says and strokes a gentle hand over the curly blond hair, before she starts bathing the vessels’ head and upper torso with the sacred water. Urdr is less than pleased though when Skuld tells of what happened next and the resulting crack in the bond.

 

Urdr sets aside the cloth, then gently and as easily as were he a mere babe, she sits the vessel up and leans him forward so she can get a clear look at the back of his neck.

“You are right Skuld, it is just as I feared when I sent you to fetch him, the bond has weakened enough to begin to crack. We must get him fit and ready for the ritual as soon as possible. I would have liked for him to be fully healed in body first, for the spirit ways the heavier for the poor state of the flesh. Ah well, we must use what tricks we know to get him as fit as possible. Muninn hold him for me please.” She says and once the big man has a firm but gentle hold of his charge, she opens her little herb bag and draw out a vial of finely ground powder that she mixes up in the apple juice. Once it’s completely dissolved she pores a cup of it, sits down on the bed and gently tips Anders head so she can feed it to him without the risk of choking him. The effect is immediate, the wet rasping sound that had begun to accompany every breath the vessel took is gone, and though he still breathes a little shallowly, Urdr knows her herbs and knows that too will be back to normal within the hour if nothing else interferes. 

“There, that should do it for now. Anything more I need to know Skuld?”

“Yes mother. It was not Bragi that won the fight.”

Urdr’s eyes widen and her hand flies to the vessels forehead again.

“Skuld, you must be mistaken, they are still here, if Bragi had lost…”

“No mother, Bragi did not lose.”

“But you said that he did.” Verdandi interjected, as confused as Urdr.

“No, I said it was not him that won the fight. But neither was it the other.”

“Then who?” Verdandi asked.

“Anders. The vessel intervened and broke up the fight. He has earned his name.” Skuld said and looked at the still heavily sedated man, with some respect in her normally cynical eye. 

“You know how much harder this will be if you see him as a person and not just the vessel? That was one of the reasons we stripped him of his name at the very beginning.” Urdr said.

Skuld gave a nod. “I know. But he earned back his name.” Then with a harder and much more grudging voice added: “Both of them.” 

Skuld and Urdr locked gazes and for a minute no one said anything as the two elder Norn communicated with their eyes. Leaving Verdandi, who had only been a ‘spirit carrier’ for a few years, out of the loop. 

Finally Urdr gave a nod. “Then he shall be Anders and not the vessel.” With a twinkle in her eye she gave the sleeping man a fond smile. “I always knew he had heart. Else Bragi would never have done what he did.” She then turned to address the brothers.

“We need to get him as ready as possible. Huginn, Muninn, you two take him to the well chamber and bathe him in the root run off twice, then in water poured directly from the well. Dress him in the ritual cloths, remember he must not be dried before you put them on him. Take him back here and I will have a look at him to see if he’s ready for the ritual by then. If he is Skuld will feed him the ritual potions and Verdandi the ritual food, if he’s not ready skip the potion but still feed him the food. But looking at that crack we must pray to the roots that the water will grant him the strength and wellness he needs, for now however this will have to tide us over.” She finished by producing a thin woven thread from a pouch on her belt, which she dipped first in the rest of the juice Huginn had brought then in the jug of root water before she said a prayer over it and tied it round the vessel’s neck like a primitive necklace. “There. Now I’ll go tend the roots in the hopes that we may be able to put them to use tonight.” She said and with a final fond yet concerned look at Anders, she left to preform her task. 

 

Skuld, being an actual trained doctor, couldn’t help but do a cheek up of her own of Anders, declaring that ‘western medicine’ could really benefit from a little old Norse knowledge, before she too left to see to the potions, some of which had been brewing for weeks by now.

Leaving Verdandi with the twins who were unbuckling the restrains Skuld had only just secured, so they could carry him to the chamber.

“You are very gentle with him.” Verdandi observed as Huginn helped Muninn secure his hold on Bragi’s vessel, tipping his head so it rested on Muninn’s broad chest as he held him bridal style. ‘No, Anders. Skuld said he earned his name. Call him Anders.’ Verdandi thought to herself. 

“A true warrior will never mistreat a beaten enemy or captive.” Huginn quoted from somewhere as he opened the door for his brother.

“Setting aside that he is not an enemy, he has done nothing to deserve neither scorn nor the desire to mistreat him. If anything he deserves to be treated with respect and kindness after all we have forced upon him.” Muninn added with a sad look in his eyes as he carried Anders out the door.

Verdandi wasn’t sure she quite understood, but it hardly mattered now, she had ritual food to prepare.

 

********

 

Dawn sips at her coffee as she unlocks the front door to Anders’s apartment building.

She’s quite cross with Ty for not having called her back with news about Anders yet, and with Colin for not making him. She knows of course that the main reason she’s angry is not really that they haven’t called her yet, it’s only just gone six thirty after all, which is also the main reason she hasn’t called either of them yet. No, it’s guilt. Guilt, that Anders made her his proxy yet she let his family make the decisions anyway. Guilt over the fact, that Anders is in hospital in the first place, and she’s not there with him like she said she would be. 

But Dawn is sure that Ty had meant it, had believed it, when he had said that the best thing was for her to leave and let them sort it for now. And in spite of his over familiarity with her and that really poor joke of his, she feels like Ty is someone she can trust. Someone who is a really sweet guy, she just can’t help but feel there is something she should know, and she’s wary of reaching out to him until she gets that feeling sorted. Even if Anders had said that the two of them could be amazing together. 

Of course he’d said it in a way to indicate he meant sexually, but Dawn has known him long enough to be able to read between the lines and hear what he means instead of what it sounds like he means, most of the time anyway. And what he had really said was that: Ty was really a great guy and that Dawn could do a lot worse. 

It’s not unusual for Anders to pry into Dawns dating life, or lack thereof. But it’s more of a: Him? Are you serious? Well I hope he’s good in bed because I can’t see what else you’d want him for.’ Which is how he is with Lance. It’s very clear that Anders does not approve. But he doesn’t go all: Are you sure? You could do so much better!’ Card, he just let’s her make her own mistakes, and only says ‘I told you so’ about ten times or so when he’s right about her choice, which considering it’s Anders who loves to gloat is really quite restrained. 

Dawn takes another sip of coffee as she unlocks the door to Anders’s flat.

He can actually be really nice, he even brings her coffee and leaves chocolate on her desk when she’s had a really bad break up. Even if he denies that he’s the one making the coffee and candy appear. Anders never knows what to do with himself when people thanks him for being nice, it’s like he’s unsure if people are mocking him or just waiting for the blow that will follow, because in Anders’ mind nothing good can happen without something bad coming after.

Which leads Dawn to think about Frank.

Frank had been so perfect it had been hard to believe he would even look her way. He’d been the director of a sporting goods company that they had done work for, and had taken to flirting with Dawn whenever he came by or when they talked on the phone. Anders had warned her the second he’d sensed that she was getting feelings for him, but Dawn hadn’t listened. Frank had been the perfect gentleman for three months, wooing her with every trick in the book and Dawn had been so in love she had had no qualms saying yes when he’d asked for her hand. She had been so happy, but then Frank had shown up at her place drunk and looking for a fight.

She’d been beaten so bad she could barely move, and if Anders hadn’t come by to find out why she hadn’t come to work or answered her phone, she didn’t know how long she would have been lying on her own floor. 

Anders had been so gentle with her it only made her cry more, than the pain and shame she felt already did. He’d kept repeating that it was not her fault, that she was a victim yes, but that it was Nothing to be ashamed of. The only one that should be ashamed was the person who had done this to her. He had called an ambulance and stayed with her not only until it arrived but all the way to the hospital as well. He refused to leave her, even when she reminded him that he had important meetings, he just told her nothing was more important than her. When, despite everyone’s efforts, she had tried to crawl inside her own head and hide, he had drawn her out, not by asking her to talk about her own experience like everyone else was doing, but by telling her about some of his own. Listening to him she suddenly understood so much more about Anders than she ever had before, and she knew how much he trusted her by telling her these things. In turn she gained the courage to talk to him, and it did help to talk about it. Especially with someone who really knew what she was going through.

And if that hadn’t been enough, he’d even dealt with her mother for Christ sake! 

Her mother, who hated every man Dawn so much as smiled at, yet pushed her to marry and have children, had fallen utterly and completely in love with Anders. 

On the day she had been able to go home from the hospital, Anders had driven her home and her mum had talked, or rather bullied, him into staying for dinner. Dawn had been so tired she had been forced to take a nap, and when she had woken some time later she had heard her mum interrogating Anders about ‘his intentions’ towards her daughter. Dawn had been utterly mortified and was about to call out that he did not have to answer that when Anders answer had silenced her.

“Mrs Sutherland as much as I’m flattered by the notion, that Dawn would look my way that’s not meant to be. You see in my opinion Dawn is the most perfect woman I have ever met. She’s kind, she beautiful, she’s intelligent, she doesn’t stand for no nonsense and she’s got guts. Even if your daughter should ever lose her mind and get any feelings for me, she deserves so much more than I could ever be. Which is exactly why, my intention is to be the very best friend to Dawn that I can possible be.”

 

And Anders had been a good friend. 

Like when the police had arrested Frank, he had naturally denied everything. When that hadn’t worked his creep of a lawyer had threatened Dawn to shut up or else. Normally Dawn would not have been intimidated, but so soon after the beating she was still fragile and had been prepared to withdraw her case just to be left alone. She’d said as much to Anders when they had spoken later that day. Anders had persuaded her to stick with the case, and insisted he was coming with her to the next court day.

When the day had come, Anders had called and told her he’d met her there. Dawn had been early, and had by coincidence seen Anders walk up to Frank and his lawyer. She hadn’t been able to hear them but she’d seen their expressions change as Anders talked to them; they went from arrogant to shameful to downright terrified. And when the case was to be presented Frank changed his plea to guilty on all counts and that he would accept whatever punishment the judge saw fit.

When she’d confronted Anders with what she’d seen, he only said that he’d appealed to their better nature and that Dawn shouldn’t worry about it. And oddly enough she hadn’t been worried at all after that. 

 

‘Yes Anders was a good friend. Not always a good boss, but he was always a good friend.’ Dawn thought and smiled ever so slightly to herself.   
Which was why she was here at his apartment to feed his fish, like she’d done every day since Mike had told her Anders was off on a family emergency even when he hadn’t asked her to.

Setting her coffee on the kitchen counter she found the fish food and went over to the tank.

“Okay you guy’s, your ‘dad’ is in the hospital so I… Oh!” 

 

****The Night Before*****

 

The apartment was silent save for the gentle and nearly silent sound of the water and flow pump in the aquarium, which were also the only source of light.

The goldfish swimming languidly around seems like bright splashes of colour in the darkness the rules the rest of the city. 

A dark shape moves in front of the aquarium and the gentle tapping of a finger against the glass makes the fish swim towards the source of the vibration they detect in the water.

The tapping moves to the other end of the tank and the fish follow.

“You guys are very well trained. Hey Mark come look at this!”

Another dark shape appears from seemingly nowhere and joins the one by the fish.

“Look man, did you know you could train fish? How far out is that?”

Mark sighs.

“He’s not here. No do what I told you to do John.”

“For real? Aren’t we being a bit extreme, I mean, it’s only fish for Go… Ehr ..I mean for sure that’s not necessary?”

“He escaped even after every weakening measure we had taken. No one human should have been able to walk out of there, even less run out after defeating one of our own. You know that killing a witch’s or demon’s familiar is a good way of weakening them, and that those familiars can take any shape. If those fish are so smart then it just proves he’s placed some of his power in them. Now do it, I’ll be in the wan keeping an eye out if he should return. We need to recapture him.” With that Mark left.

John sighed, but did as he was told.

“Such a waste.” He mumbled as he dumped the contents of several bottles of Vodka into the aquarium and left.

The lock on the front door gave a faint click as the lock slid home, and for a minute or two everything seemed fine. Then one after each other the fish stopped swimming and as silently as they had lived they died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? You thought I'd forgotten about the god Hunters? Oh no, they are still here, and still up to no good.  
> I’m sorry for being ‘not nice’ to Dawn. But I needed something ‘dark’ for them to relate on, and show Anders soft and protective side.   
> Also I’m very sorry for killing the fish. I know how some of you feel about them, but they went to fish heaven if that’s any consolation.
> 
> Also I recently read the very good ‘line fic’ On Anders and Mitchell by ero0chibi0chan   
> And thought I’d like to try that as well.   
> Since I don’t have a tumbler I’m asking you here: Please give me words! I’m not asking you to give me 50’ each, but 5 or 10 or as many as you like, would be very much appreciated.
> 
> Oh and as always reviews make me work faster and is your chance to get me to elaborate, or change stuff you don’t think works. In short it’s your ‘remote control’ to me.   
> Cheers! Aramir


	19. Hello, Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of ‘Flight or Fight’ flight has always been the stronger instinct for Anders, and generally it’s served him well. But right now he’s weak as a kitten, and once the initial burst of adrenalin wears of it’s ridiculously easy for the hands to get hold of him as he slowly loses both strength and breath.

***********

 

Tragedy in life normally comes with betrayal and compromise,  
And trading on your integrity and not having dignity in life.  
That’s really where failure comes.  
\- Tom Cochrane

 

*************

 

Cold. 

That’s the first thing that registers in Anders brain, cold. 

‘Ty?’

No, it’s not Ty. This is too fleeting, the cold too real, too clear, too… wet?

Water.

It’s water all around him, flowing over him as if he’s lying in a stream. Maybe he is, his body is too heavy and too sluggish to tell him much more than it’s cold and wet.

Voices.

‘What are they saying? That’s not English … is it? Shouldn’t he know whether it is English or not? They sound concerned.’

 

“Not so rough Huginn. He’s fragile you know.”

“Nah, he’s a tough little critter.”

“You are always so heavy handed, why not try the soft touch every once in a while?”

“He doesn’t trust the soft touch you know that Muninn. He doesn’t understand it. He’s more likely to bolt if you pet him than he is if you were to hit him.”

*sigh* “I wish that didn’t have to be true.”

“Me too brother. Now help me get him out, we have to dress him.”

 

Hands.

Big hands.

Warm hands.

No, not warm, just warmer than he is.

 

“Watch it your dropping him!”

 

‘Water! So cold. Hands gripping, nails biting into slippery flesh, water, can’t breathe!’ 

Anders twitches as a sensory memory is triggered, murky images and shadowy memories of this having happened before flow before his inner eye, along with the knowledge of what will follow...

“No!” Anders screams as he breaks the surface, causing Huginn and Muninn to lose their grip in surprise. 

Anders trashes and flails his arms in an attempt to escape the cold water and be able to breathe.

Hands reach for him but even as he feels like he’s drowning, he can’t help but shy away from them. Of ‘Flight or Fight’ flight has always been the stronger instinct for Anders, and generally it’s served him well. But right now he’s weak as a kitten, and once the initial burst of adrenalin wears of it’s ridiculously easy for the hands to get hold of him as he slowly loses both strength and breath.

He’s swept up in a warm embrace of a pair of powerful arms and held there, as another pair grasp his head and holds it still. Twin voices telling him to calm down and just breathe, that they won’t let anyone touch him or hurt him.

Despite his instinct to be constantly weary and mistrustful, something is telling him that he can trust the voices … at least for now. Gradually he manages to catch his breath, and he blinks his eyes open, surprised to realize that he’s had them closed all through the resent scare.

He startles at the big face so close to his own, and can’t help but try to back away, a small and shameful whimper escapes him, but with what he’s been through lately; ‘Damn it he’s allowed to be nervous and scared!’ 

 

“See now you scared him Muninn! Not that I blame him, I always do a double take when I see your ugly mug.”

“I didn’t mean… HEY! What do you mean ‘ugly mug’? This is your face too you know, so it’s hardly just me you’re insulting here.”

“Oh please. Sure there might be ‘some’ likeness, but clearly I’m the handsome one here.”

“Handsome my arse.” 

“Yes that might be your best feature as it is seldom seen, but I’d hardly call it handsome.” Huginn deadpanned and smirked.

“Why you!” Muninn scowled but backed up as he saw his brother wink and give an almost imperceptible nod towards Anders whom he still held in his arms. Their bickering seemed to have managed to distract Anders enough that he was actually calming down a little.

Clearing his throat Muninn turned towards Anders and addressed him. “Seeing as we are never going to agree why don’t we let Anders decide. So Anders, which one of us is the more handsome?”

Anders looked at the twins, for he knew they had to be twins, they were like two drops of water, hardly able to distinguish between them.

“Uhmm…” Was the best he could come up with as his brain tried to catch up.

“Do you think we broke him?” Huginn stage whispered to Muninn.

A snort was heard from behind them and they all turned to look at the ancient woman standing there.

“Of course you haven’t broken him. If growing up a Johnson didn’t break him, nothing will. You just gave him an unanswerable question.” 

“What do you mean?” The one holding Anders, who he figured was Huginn, asked. 

“You asked who was the more handsome. And even a fully healthy Bragi will be hard put to find a nice way of telling you that none of you are anything remotely like handsome.” The old woman said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, causing both twins to give out: ‘Hey!’s, and Anders to snort, though he quickly regretted it as all eyes turned to him again.

 

“Look I’m sure this is all really fascinating and very important to you, looks is such a big deal of ones personality in today’s world after all, but if you could just let go of me, get me my cloths and direct me towards the nearest exit I’ll be on my way and you can debate the differences of your identical faces to your heart’s content.” Anders said Bragi’s poetry flowing over his tongue like cold honey; slow, thick and cloying. ‘Shit, not again!’ Anders thinks as the god’s powers seem to be failing him once more.

“Bragi wouldn’t have worked on us even if he’d been well Anders, so you can stop fretting. Besides we brought you here to help Bragi, not to hurt you.” The old woman says and Anders can feel Bragi stirring somewhere in his mind, but whatever it is he’s trying to tell him is lost in the grey mist that separates them even inside his mind. 

“I, how do you know me? No, forget that for now, can I please have some cloths?” Anders asks, deciding that a little dignity is more important than answers right at this moment. And it’s kind of unnerving sitting naked in the arms of some man he doesn’t even know, plus the water really is very cold and isn’t doing him any favours. 

“Of course. Huginn, Muninn stop sitting around, help him up and get dressed.”

“No really, I can do it myself.” Anders tries as the two big men, really big he notices as they all stand up, helps him up and starts dressing him as if he was a four year old.

“Nonsense. We’re happy to help.” Huginn says and pull the shirt thing somewhat roughly over his head while Muninn taps his feet to get him to lift them one at the time so he can slide the pants on him.

“I don’t think…” Anders tries, but Muninn interrupts him.

“You’ve been ill Anders let us help support you as you recover.”

“I repeat; How do you know me? I have no idea who you guys are?!”

“I’m Urdr the oldest of the Norn, these two twits are Huginn and Muninn. You are among fellow Asgardians Anders Bragi’s choice, in the home of the Norn underneath Yggdrasil. Now finish getting dressed, later I will try to answer what questions you may have as best as I can. But first I think food is in order, you are far too thin boy. Now come and I shall find you food.” The old woman reached out her hand to indicate the way, making no move to force Anders to go with her, yet Anders knows in his guts that should he try to run or merely refuse her gesture he will still wind up wherever Urdr wanted him to. 

So being of no little intellect Anders tied the string keeping up the woollen pants he had been given, took a tentative step forward towards the old Norn and in his most polite voice said: “Food would be nice yes, thank you.” 

“Right, come along then, and you two go change into something dry, I won’t have you getting sick as well.” Urdr said and guided Anders out the door. 

 

Urdr led him to a room not far from the cave with the spring he’d woken up in, and Anders was glad of it, for even if it had only been a short walk, much to his chagrin he’d had to accept the support of the old, and surprisingly strong, woman to stay on his feet. The Norn had been tactful about it though and made no comment as he stumbled along.

Now he was seated at a very sturdy and old looking table in a chair which looked like it had been pilfered of the set of Lord of The Rings, eating some sort of weird sweet soup that a young woman had brought in, before leaving with Urdr. 

Looking around as he slowly ate, his stomach protesting the richness of the soup after having nothing but thin broth for days and only little of that, he couldn’t help but compare the decor to that used in Edoras.  
Though when Huginn, who had only just re-joined him, offered to get him a pillow he’d felt more like a hobbit than a man of Rohan, and he’d bitten out a terse: “No thank you.” Though he had smirked as the other twin had cuffed Huginn one as he stepped back.

“Ow! What was that for? You told me to try being soft.”

“Yes well not in the head. You offended him.”

“All I did was offer him a pillow.”

“Yes, and thereby indicating that you think him either soft or small, neither of which he is likely to take kindly to.”

“Oh. I uhm… That wasn’t what I meant.” The last was addressed to Anders. And the big man really did look contrite. Anders couldn’t help but feel himself slowly warming to the twins.

“It’s alright, and you may be right these seats are a trifle rough on the rear. Maybe I’ll take that pillow after all.” Anders said, making Huginn grin and Muninn smile. 

After he’d been given the big pillow, which truly is a boon to his arse, and he’s once again seated eating his food, he decides to strike up conversation with the two both to find out more about the people he was being held by, because he had no illusion of his lack of freedom to leave, and to find out if they knew about his brothers. “So Huginn and Muninn, Odin’s ravens. How’s that gig working out for you?”

 

The brothers were surprisingly open about nearly everything he asked about.

They were born and raised on their grandparent’s farm outside Ålesund in Norway. As soon as they could see over the dashboard they had stolen (“Borrowed Muninn! We only borrowed it.”) ‘borrowed’ their parents vw van, and, after decorating it with psychedelic paint job and peace sign on the spear wheel, taken it for a tour of Scandinavia. (“It was the late sixties man, everything was way more laidback back then.” Muninn had said only for Huginn to protest that : “You only remember it like that because you were stoned from 66 to 75! You didn’t even know The Beatles had broken up before John Lennon was shot in 80’!”)

They had broken down I Denmark, and gotten a job picking strawberries for the season to save up for tickets home. Only they ended up staying six years instead, studding and graduating journalist school.  
Officially they made their livelihood as freelance journalists, with their own website on global news. Though in reality, they mostly worked for the Norn these days (“Fetch and carry mostly, the girls rarely leave the tree you know.”). 

They knew about most of the god business taking place around the world. Like the fact that Odin had been reborn in his brother Axl, and though they hadn’t met him yet they were looking forward to doing so eventually. 

“We thought about looking him up while in New Zealand, but Skuld was dead set against it. We were there to find you, not to find Odin she said.” Huginn said and shrugged.

“And she was right. We were there to help you. If we hadn’t been so distracted by all the other gods and goddesses, we might have found you before ‘they’ did.” Muninn added, and both twins looked down at their hands in shame.

“Wait, you were looking for me?” Anders asked, both nodded. 

“Before the god hunters found me?” Again they nodded.

“Yes. Urdr said that … well she needed to…” Huginn looked to his brother for words.

“Urdr knew Bragi was in some sort of trouble, and she send Skuld and us to find you.”

“And that’s how you know me, because you did research on me?” Anders asked expecting them to simply nod and agree, instead the brothers looked uncomfortable at the question and fidgeted in their seats.

“Is that, is that not it? How can this be a hard question? It’s so simple that a yes or no answer will do, for now at least.”

Huginn was the one to first get his speech back.

“It is anything but simple Anders. Yes we did research on you, but that’s not the whole story.” Huginn said and looked to his brother to continue. 

Muninn drew a deep breath and let it out as a sigh.

“Contrary to what you believe Anders, you ‘have’ known us all your life.”

Anders was about to interrupt with a denial, but Muninn held up a hand to forestall him. “You do know us, you simply don’t remember it because the Norn has pulled that treat of memory from you.”

“I…” Anders was at a loss for words, something that rarely happened. Finally he settled on: “Why would they do that?”

“To protect your human mind.” A woman’s angry voice sounded from the doorway. 

“Skuld, we were…” Muninn began.

“You were told to leave the explanations to Urdr.”

“We were just being polite, there was no harm in answering a few harmless questions.” Huginn defended himself and his brother.

“You may have started out harmless, but you are about to be neck deep in troll dung if you keep flapping your beaks. Urdr will tell him what he needs to know.” She gave both brothers hard looks then let her face soften somewhat as she looked at Anders.

“I’m sorry Anders, but we Norn have very strict rules about information for a reason, it’s allowed us to remain undetected for all these centuries, and I’m sure Urdr will answer what questions she can. Now I’ve brought you this to strengthen you, as soon as you’ve drunken it I’ll take you to her.” Skuld said and poured a goblet of something green and bobbling. 

“Ehr… what is it?” He said peering down at it eyes filled with mistrust.

“Something to fortify your immune system and keep your spirit healthy.”

“Yeah, not to be rude lady but it looks like it came out with a failing grade from professor Snape’s class. So I’ think I’ll just pass.”

“I really think it would be best if you drank it.”

“I really don’t want to, so no.”

Skuld sighed. “I do so hate to break up a re-emerging friendship. Huginn, Muninn grab him and hold him steady.”

“No!” Anders yelled as the twins both, albeit with visible reluctance, grasped hold of him and held him still.

“Let go of me! You said you wanted to help me!” 

“They are helping you Anders, you just can’t see it.” Skuld said as she forced him to swallow the potion and held his mouth and nose so he couldn’t spit it out.

Anders coughed when he was let go, half bend over trying to catch his breath, his eyes shining with furious betrayal as he looked at the brothers who had let him go and now stood blocking the entrance. 

“Bastards.” He spat out, then doubled over with sudden pain and curled in on himself, panting and whining despite his best efforts to keep his pain hidden.

“Just breathe deep Anders and it will be over soon.” Skuld said, refusing to feel guilty for forcing the drink in him instead of maybe having Urdr explain why it was so important first.

“I’m never that lucky.” Anders managed to grind out between his clenched teeth, and true to his words it was a full five minutes of agony before the potion finally kicked in fully and he lost consciousness.

Skuld gave him a quick once over before she declared him out. “Such stubborn strength.” She said as Huginn lifted him up. “You can take him to Urdr, she’s ready for him.” 

Huginn only grunted, and Muninn gave her a cold look. 

Skuld sighed, seemed she’d lost the brothers respect with that little stunt. ‘Well,’ she told herself, ‘she didn’t need their respect, only their obedience.’ 

With one final look around the room with its sign of Anders struggle, she left for the place of the binding.

The time for the ritual had come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as always I hoped you enjoyed the chapter, and that you will review.  
> Also on a more general note; I have decided to give myself a ‘five day window’ for this story, meaning that I will do my darndest to update at least once every five days.  
> Though having said that I’ll warn you that that might ‘slide’ a little this next week, as I’m also currently engaged in a Halloween challenge (which I’m very much enjoying plotting for) and that will take priority (plus my mum’s birthday is coming up and that alone will take four days away from my writing)  
> Just thought to let you know.  
> Cheers! Aramir


	20. This Bird Had Flown.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, I wanted to call you first. This wasn’t just a break in was it?” She asks the answer clear to both of them.  
> “No I don’t think so Dawn.” Ty confesses, he knows he can’t just tell her everything as much as he wants to do so, but he knows he can trust her with that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so so sorry for being away from this for such a long time. All I can say in my defence is: Life has been hectic, the muse have been fickle, I’m here now and I hope you are still out there!   
> So without further ado, On with the show!
> 
> Oh and the notes at the end will contain spoilers as well as translations.

And when I awoke I was alone   
This bird had flown   
So I lit a fire   
Isn't it good Norwegian wood?  
\- Lennon/McCartney

 

 

Huginn is angry. 

For the first time in almost twenty years Anders is with them again, finally old enough to understand just what they are doing and why they have to do it. Yet Skuld has taken the right of choice away from him, even when she was the one who gave him back his name. Or rather Anders earned it, but she was the one that acknowledged it.

Yet she didn’t see fit to explain, she just forced him to take the potion, and used Huginn and his brother as her tools to do so, just when they were getting along so nicely too. It’s not going to be easy to win back what those actions have done to the young man’s ability or even willingness to trust them.

Yes Huginn is angry as he lights the torches in the ritual chamber, very much so. 

Though from the way Muninn is muttering and how he seems to want to throw the rocks instead of placing them nicely in their appointed spots it’s a fair bet he’s pissed as well.

Huginn gives a little nod of satisfaction with his twin for feeling like him, but then stops himself as a thought enters his head.

“Are you…”

“I’m paying attention to the stones yes. I know the placement is too important to not be paying a hundred percent attention. You can go back to your own anger brother, I got this covered.” Muninn answers and sends his brother a look over his shoulder.

“Good. I want him to survive this so we can make it up to him.”

“Me too, and I’m telling you now brother, if the Norn don’t fill him in after this then I will.”

“WE will.” Huginn corrects his brother, and they share another look before they go back to their tasks.

 

Meanwhile the three head Norn had changed into their own ritual cloths and gathered what they would need to bring into the room with them to sustain them for the time the ritual took, since once it had begun it could not be stopped without dire consequences for all involved.

“You know how to carve the runes?” Skuld asked Verdandi as they meet up in the hall.

“I have practiced diligently since mother told me of my task. I’ve mastered the forms and the incantations on both wood and stone, but I’ve only done it twice on flesh. I will admit that I am nervous but she says I am ready.” Verdandi replied and couldn’t help her gaze from flickering onto the leather sheath that held the knife she would use to carve the runes into the living flesh of Anders.

“If Urdr says you are ready then you are. You will do fine.” The older Norn said in a, for her, surprisingly comforting tone of voice.

“I will do my best.” Verdandi inclined her head in gratitude. Then though of something she’d heard but hadn’t believed. “Tell me Skuld, you saw him when he was in the hospital, is it true that he was cut with letters by his captures?” 

Skuld’s face became hard and cold as she bit out her words.

“Yes, the heathens had imprinted their wile scriptures upon his body. Foul savages corrupting our noble and ancient traditions with their cruel childish mockeries. Luckily Sjöfn was able to banish those words as well when she wielded Yggdrasil to heal him. ” 

“And they are completely gone?” Verdandi asked, knowing that Skuld would have cheeked. 

“There are no visible traces anywhere upon his body nor could I sense the taint in him after Urdr’s treatment.” She placed a comforting hand on Verdandi’s shoulder. “Fear not child, if Urdr had sensed anything she would have told you so. You do your kin proud by your attention and dedication to your task.”

“I live to serve the tree and attend the spring.” Verdandi confirmed the oat of the Norn as they headed into the ritual chamber where Urdr was already waiting. 

The old Norn greets them with a nod then turn to the brothers.

“Have you done as I asked?”

“We have.” Muninn confirms.

“Then you may leave the chamber and take up positions of guard at the door. Verdandi, you have your tools?” The youngest Norn nod and hold up her bag and the knife sheath.

“Skuld you have your potions?” 

“Yes Urdr.” Skuld confirms already placing her jars and bottles on the small stone table beside the main ritual stone. 

“The gold is ready as is the roots so we can begin once the doors are sealed.” The old Norn says with satisfaction. Then she turns to Huginn and Muninn. “Brothers, attend your posts and seal us in. Remember no one is to be allowed in or out until such time that we all three tell you so.” Urdr says and waves the men off, rituals, or rather sejd, are the dominion of the vølve after all. 

“It will be done.” Huginn answers, both of them bowing before they leave the chamber casting one last look at Anders as they do so.

 

*******

 

*Riiiiing*

Ty groans and blinks open one eye.

*Riiiiing*

Sighing he fumbles for the phone.

“Hello?”

“Ty, Ty you need to come over to Anders’ place right away.”

“Dawn? Is everything alright.”

“No, no it’s not. Someone broke in to Anders apartment last night.”

“Shit, I’ll be right over.”

“Good, but Ty there is something you should know.”

“Did they trash the place? If they did we’ll deal with it.” Ty assures her while he’s looking for some cloths.

“No they didn’t … not really, it’s…” Dawn sound close to tears.

“Hey, hey it’s okay whatever they did I’m sure we can replace it so Anders will never know. You know he’s not that attached to material things anyway.”

Now Dawn does let lose a sob.

“They killed the fish Ty.” That stops him cold.

“What?”

“They killed his fish.” 

Ty gets an uneasy feeling in his guts.

“Dawn did you call the police?”

“No, I wanted to call you first. This wasn’t just a break in was it?” She asks the answer clear to both of them.

“No I don’t think so Dawn.” Ty confesses, he knows he can’t just tell her everything as much as he wants to do so, but he knows he can trust her with that much.

“What should I do?” Dawn asks, and it warms Ty’s heart that she doesn’t even think about not trusting him, maybe there is hope for them yet but first he needs to get this whole situation sorted.

“This is going to sound like something out of an old spy movie, but did you notice anyone following you? Or maybe just hanging around Anders apartment building or the office?”

“No I don’t think so.” Dawn says though she doesn’t sound entirely sure.

“You don’t sound sure, please Dawn even if you think it’s just silly or a coincidence I need you to tell me.”

“Hmm… No I just don’t…. Wait, wait there was that one moving van I’ve seen it both at his place and outside the office…oh and once when we went out for lunch. I only remembered it because it has a rather ‘unfortunate’ shaped rust stain that Anders took great pleasure in pointing out to me. I suppose it could have been following him for some reason?”

“I think it might have been, yes.”

“I don’t mind telling you that this is more than a little freaky to me Ty. I mean I went over the apartment once I saw the fish and everything else is almost as I left it the day before last when I feet the fish, like someone went through it and put it back without really paying attention. But they made sure to kill the fish. 

The only thing in the entire apartment that Anders had any real attachment to they made sure to destroy. It doesn’t get any more personal than that. 

So are you going to tell me what this is really all about Ty? Because as much as Anders can be an annoying little shit at times, he’s not really one for making enemies. Especially not ones that follow you around in trucks and kill your pet.”

“I really want to tell you Dawn. But I’m not sure how much it’s safe to tell you at this point.” He confesses.

Dawn sighs. 

“Just one more thing Ty.”

“Yes?”

“The people who did this, are they the reason Anders is in the hospital in the first place?” 

Ty runs a hand over his face. There really is no way of getting out of answering this that he can see, and he did promise Dawn that he would fill her in on Anders.

“I think so yes.” He says. 

Dawn is silent for a few moments while she digest the information, then in a voice only slightly wavering asks: “So I’m guessing you want me to forgo calling the police and to meet you somewhere so you can explain it all to me? Because I want to know the truth, and you will tell me the truth Ty or I’ll revoke my decision on letting you have a say in how Anders is treated.” She threatens reminding Ty that Dawn hasn’t been told Anders have been taken from the hospital. ‘Oh bloody hell’.

“If you feel comfortable doing so yes.”

“I don’t, not really. But I’ll do it for Anders sake.” 

“Thank you. Just head to the office as you usually would, pretend you haven’t seen the fish or something and I’ll meet you there within the hour okay?”

“We can’t meet at the office Ty. It’s full of campaign workers.”

“Shit I forgot. Okay then the park?”

“No we might be interrupted and I have a feeling this isn’t something we want overheard?”

“It isn’t no.”

“Then we go to my place, you remember the address?”

“Yes.” Ty wince a little at Dawn’s tone, it’s obvious she hasn’t forgotten about his believed poor joke that time.

“Good. I’ll grab a folder here and tuck it under my arm so it looks like I just came for that, then head back to the office to send the others home early today, then I’ll leave for home and I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for anyone following me.”

“You don’t know how much this means to me, to us. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Okay?” 

“Okay. I should be able to make it within the hour.” 

She hangs up and Ty is left trying to decide what to do and how to do it. Finally he decides to call Mike who picks up on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Mike, we have a problem.”

Ty can hear Mike rolling his eyes as he answers in a tired voice.

“Another one?”

“I think it’s the same one, just another angle.”

“Fill me in.”

 

******

 

It’s a little over an hour and a half later that Ty arrive at Dawns place.

Mike and he had agreed that both of them showing up at once could be a bit much for Dawn, so Mike had called the others in to update them and everyone has agreed that they would need to sort this new problem now that they know it’s the Norn that has Anders and they have been warned off looking for them by Idun, though both Ty and Michele are adamant that they still try to find Anders by some other means.

So while the others look into that, Ty is to explain as much as he can to Dawn to satisfy her curiosity and preferably without letting the: Oh yeah we are all gods and goddesses’ bit slip. 

‘Yeah no pressure.’ Ty thinks, and once more wish for his brother and Bragi. Mostly Anders, Bragi is handy but it’s Anders he misses.

 

He barely has time to knock before the door is opened and Dawn is all but pulling him inside by his lapels. 

“What the hell is going on Ty?” She demands, clearly very agitated and … afraid?

“Look Dawn I don’t know exactly who killed the fish but I do know it’s someone who hates our whole family on principle alone.”

At the word ‘family’ Dawn tenses up even more.

“’Family’, you know I used to think you were actual brothers even if you looked nothing alike but now this… Tell me the truth Ty, is this some gang related thing? Are you actually related or is the ‘family things’ Anders is always leaving to do these days actually code for some mob thing?” She points at him with her phone, and Ty catches a glimpse of the screen where 111 is shown ready to be dialed at the first sign of trouble. 

“What?!?! No, we are brothers, or family might be fucked up and as secretive as any crime family but I swear to you we are neither a mob family nor part of any gang.” 

“Oh yeah? Then how do you explain that?!” Dawn sais and pointed to the television where the anchor had just announced that they were going to go to their man at the scene. A scene that seemed very familiar to Ty.

“Can you turn that up?” Ty asked and Dawn did so. 

 

“.. can see Claire the police have cordoned off the entire street. The officer I’ve just spoken to says the wreckage is resting on top of a gas line so there is talk of expanding the safe zone to the entire block until the fire department have managed to extinguish the wreckage which is still burning here almost an hour after the initial explosion as you can see here.” The camera shifts from the reporter to the burning shell’s of several car’s and a van. A van that though it’s nearly burned out still have enough of one side intact that you can see a rust spot with a very unfortunate shape. 

 

“Half an hour after I tell you about that van, not only does it turn up on the news as a burning wreckage, no it does so in front of Anders’ apartment building. How do you explain that?” Dawn demands.

 

***** An hour and twenty minutes earlier *****

 

“Shit.” The young man curses as he pulls onto the street and sees a familiar blond woman walking down it and getting into her car. 

He sits indecisively for a few moments before he reaches over and gets his phone out and dials a number.

“Math? Yeah it’s John. The woman has been to the flat. How long? I don’t know I only just got here. Don’t blame me, blame traffic. Yeah, yeah, look should I follow her or stay here? So I follow her? Yes I… Shit! What? No some idiot just pulled in right in front of me I’m boxed in. Look I’ll have to deal whit this before I can follow anyone I’ll call you back later.” John hangs up and tosses the phone on the seat beside him then he rolls down the window.

“Hey mister! Move your car will you?”

No response.

“Oi pall are you deaf? I said move it!”

The man gets out of the car and comes slowly towards the side of the van a baseball cap obscuring his eyes.

“You can’t move the car if you’re not in it.” John says to the man.

The man just smiles and lifts his head, revealing burning eyes. Literally burning eyes.

“What the hell….?!?” John exclaims.

“No not even close. But I will send you there if you fail to answer my questions.” 

 

Five minutes later blood curling screams are heard but they are soon drowned out by the sound of several cars spontaneously bursting into flame and exploding seconds later.

As people gather to watch the sight, phones com up to record and take pictures or to call someone.

One young man stands a little further away than the others and though he’s on the phone it’s not the police or a news agency he’s calling.

“Είναι μου. Είχα τον ναι. Αλλά κατάφερε να δραπετεύσει και έχουν χάσει κάθε ίχνος του. Τι? Όχι, δεν άφησα ορισμένοι μάρτυρες. Ναι το ξέρετε, να σας δούμε στο ξενοδοχείο.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vølve: a female cult leader, who’s said to have magic abilities but first and foremost the gift of foresight. They were the closest the Nordic religion came to Sharman’s or priests. Their power was thought to lie partially in the staff they carried, a vølve staff, and originated in Odin himself. 
> 
> Sejd: basically ritual in the old Nordic religion. It’s based on the belief that the soul can be separated from the body and act on its own for good or evil. Sejd was also the ritual involved in/ associated with sex-shifting, form shifting and journeys between this word and the next. 
> 
> 111: is the NZ Emergency number, like 911 is in the US or 112 is it in Scandinavia.
> 
> Greek Translation: Είναι μου. Είχα τον ναι. Αλλά κατάφερε να δραπετεύσει και έχουν χάσει κάθε ίχνος του. Τι? Όχι, δεν άφησα ορισμένοι μάρτυρες. Ναι το ξέρετε, να σας δούμε στο ξενοδοχείο.  
> It’s me. They have had him yes. But he’s managed to give them the slip and they have lost all trace of him. What? No, I haven’t left any witnesses. Yes I know, I’ll see you back at the hotel.
> 
>  
> 
> AN: And how ridiculous am I? I only went and cheeked if Auckland had gas inlayed in their houses before I did this. Honestly I swear research is half the time on these fic’s for me.   
> As I already mentioned in the start, I really am sorry for neglecting ‘Hill’, but that being said, I haven’t been just sleeping, as some of you will have noticed I’ve been engaged in something of a ‘fic war’ with the ever lovely Elenhin and I’ve done quite a bit of work there. Still it’s nice to be back in the beast that got me started in here. I’ll try to be quicker and more steady, though I’ve learned my lesson and so I’m not making any promises except that I won’t ever just abandon the fic.   
> Please review and let me know you are still out there!  
> Cheers Aramir


	21. Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She is Norn.  
> She is Verdandi.  
> She is Lucky.  
> Or so she keeps telling herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for Elenhin who keeps me going when it feels like the rest of the World punches me in the face. My gratitude is boundless mellon nin.

‘The world is getting to be such a dangerous place a man is lucky to get out of it alive.’ – W.C. Fields

 

********

 

She had been born lucky.

Her mother had been a water carrier, a sighted Norn.

Though to outsiders ‘sighted’ would no doubt be interpreted as being gifted in foresight this was not the case.

No, to a Norn being sighted meant that you were not one of the ones dealing with the gathering of roots, creating the yarn from them or weaving of fate threads. A heavier duty than carrying buckets of water all day every day, that was for sure.

For what could be more horrible and weigh heavier than being responsible for the shaping of so many fates? Having to chose the treads you wove together, happiness, luck, sorrow, illness, and how long the thread should be? How could you choose one thread over another? What made that person better than this one? There was only so much ‘lucky’ or ‘happy’ tread to be had... Was it better to give one person a long happy life or many people short happy ones?

No not easy at all and the poor Norn was going crazy, as more and more people came into the world and the burden proved too much.

So the Norn had sent a messenger to Odin himself, pleading for a relief from this task they found cruel.

Odin in his wisdom granted this relief.

He made them blind.

He did so by sending Huginn and Muninn out to peck out their eyes, for they had violated their ancient promise of eternal and loyal servitude when they had sent even one of their own away from the roots of the tree.

Today it might seem a cruel solution. The present Huginn and Muninn certainly thought so, and had devoted themselves to the service of the Norn as a sort of very late penance for this.

Though considering how vengeful and wrathful the gods and goddesses were back then it could even be considered an act of benevolence that Odin combined the punishment with the solution... and to be fair it did work.

Though blind they could still gather roots since the roots they gathered were always ones Yggdrasil itself had let go of so they fell to the floors in the champers and caverns beneath the earth.

They could still make the yarn because that had always been more about finger feeling than sight.

And the same with the weaving of fate treads, and since they could not see what they chose to weave they could not feel guilty about it as long as they wove to the best of their ability.

Since then most Norn was born into their task, if you were blind you did this if you were not you did that.

 

Only rarely did anyone go against tradition and birth.

Though it did happen that a Norn swore off the light and blinded herself to join the sisters in the eternal darkness, only a dozen Norn had ever moved the other way and only three had gotten their sights back.

The first three: Verdandi, Skuld and Urdr.

All of which would move freely in both the Daylight city and the eternal darkness, tending to whichever task they wanted or needed to. And since the first body death their spirits had been ‘gifted’ into sighted Norn. Except maybe for Urdr who may or may not still be in her original body.

Yes Verdandi had been born lucky.

Born in the sunlit chambers of mother to the human name of Ida Svensson. Her cornflower blue eyes squinting at the light marking her as a daylight Norn.

She had been adept at runes and herbs, memorizing ritual songs and performing dances with great skill from a very young age.

Enough skill that from the tender age of eleven everyone knew she would become a spirit carrier.

A title much coveted and highly praised, even if most of the strong spirits was blinded Norn, and if she got one of them she would go through the ritual to take her sight from her.

But again, she was lucky.

She not only got a sighted and a gifted spirit, she got one of the three.

The mothers of her people, the first Vølve and the only ones that may touch the life treads of the gods.

The highest honor amongst her people. 

 

And now she stands here.

At barely twenty three she is relatively new to being a spirit carrier, yet Verdandi has participated in rituals almost all her life, and she’s witnessed hundreds upon hundreds of them since small rituals are part of everyday life for the Norn-borne.

This though is her first ritual where she herself is one of the main participants.

And it’s such an important one.

Should they fail, this both Skuld and Urdr have pressed upon her, they risk not only their pantheons place in the pecking order of the collective of all gods and goddesses but they risk the true death of at least one god and maybe... maybe the start of a godly war. The most devastating kind of war there is.

Verdandi swallows nervously and reminds herself that she is lucky.

Urdr is already commanding the roots and Verdandi watches in awe as they move as if they were the arms of an octopus and not roots of a tree reaching for Anders as he lies upon the edge of the dark pool that rests in the centre of the ritual chamber. The roots weave around him and lift him into the pool completely submerging him and holds him under as he starts to trash and fight for freedom and for air.

Skuld, who’s been singing quietly over the potions as she pours them one by one into the cauldron of bubbling molten gold let’s her voice raise up as she empties the last bottle and the cauldron itself seems to glow with magic and power. 

Verdandi shivers slightly for second then steels herself once more and saying the ritual words of cleansing she unpacks and unsheathes her knife.

Singing the spells she plunges the knife into the water of the pool, making sure not to neither get too close nor too far from where Anders is trashing.

As she draws the knife out of the water the roots raise up with it and knit together under Anders forming a kind of altar meaning Verdandi can now reach Anders without having to bend. It makes for better access and angle, but it does not make it easier to have to cut into the living flesh beneath her knife.

Still Verdandi has been born and raised to be a Norn, and a Norn does her duty no matter what. She is proud to be chosen to be Verdandi.

She is lucky.

 

Anders jerks when she makes her first cut and she tells herself she can do this, that it’s not so bad.

She’s halfway done when she makes the mistake of looking at his face and is shocked by the frightened blue gaze that meets hers. ‘He is awake?!? How can he stay quiet?’ She questions herself but then remembers that the roots and water binds his powers temporarily. Which since he is Bragi, would mean words, so he cannot speak or even scream it seems.

“Please.” He still manages to beg wordlessly, his face a picture of repressed agony and wet, she tells herself it’s just the water running of his face nothing more and forces herself to carry one.

Verdandi finishes her task, every stroke a picture of perfection despite the emotions that had wanted to make her hand shake.

‘The knife is so sharp he might not even feel it.’ She tells herself, she is lucky so it might be true if she wishes it to be so.

As the magically imbued liquid gold is poured into the cut’s Verdandi have so diligently made, Anders body jerks so strongly that even the roots seem like they might break. His eyes are wide and so blue that not even the frozen winter skies or clear summer mornings could hope to match.

There is no fear though, no there is no fear. Because there is no room for fear among the overwhelming agony they scream about louder than any howling storm.

Anders mouth is open, teeth bared as if he can’t get enough breath.

His body strains against the roots hold, so taunt she thinks his muscles might burst.

Then he closes his eyes and mouth and goes completely still.

Verdandi is about to thank her luck that he has fainted.

 

But no. 

He has not.

For his eyes snap open again no longer a clear blue but a stormy turbulent grey that speaks of hurricanes and tsunamis. Lightning and thunder rolling in like omens of imminent doom.

He strains again, and this time the roots really do start to buckle. Sparks of power seems to ripple through both Anders and the roots.

For a moment she thinks the roots are screaming but how could they?

They can’t and they aren’t.

Anders however is.

Though bound by spells from the three mightiest of Norn, though held in the shorn roots of the most powerful object in their pantheon and being drugged with ancient potions, he is fighting enough to break through the binds that hold his powers enough that he can once again speak or scream.

 

And scream he does.

Such horrible wailing of pain and sorrow that Verdandi finds herself in tears.

And behind that, such range as she have never known could exist. ‘The wrath of a god.’ She realizes and suddenly all those tales of godly vengeance doesn’t seem so over the top any more.

‘Bragi is not a vengeful god.’ She reminds herself. But then, this is hardly Bragi is it? This must be the other, the one that is the reason for this the one that must be bound.

‘Must be...bound?’

Verdandi looks at the figure on the table and now she is the one who’s blue eyes are wide with fear.

‘If he can break all of these spells, what can he do with a bond that is already broken?’

The storm howls, the magical candles flicker, the roots seem to twitch in agony, the figure on the altar is shimmering with golden light and white-blue lightning, the whole room smells of ozone and apples... then a earth cracking SNAP is heard..

And Verdandi throws herself to the ground, shielding her head with her arms and remind herself that she is lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well obviously I’m dreadfully sorry to have let my baby lie here ignored and seemingly abandoned for so long.  
> I can only apologize.  
> I hope you are still out there, still interested and that life will grant me time to get this out there regularly from now on.


	22. NOT A Chapter

My darling readers, it’s with a heavy heart that I have (finally) decided to officially put ‘Hill’ on indefinite Hiatus.  
It having sat as an ‘open’ fic has severely hindered my creativity and writing. I felt bad for even thinking about any other fic be they in the work or anything new I wanted to do, and that crippled me even more than all the shit going on In my life did by it self. (it wasn’t/isn’t just writers block). In short I felt trapped by it.   
Which is why I’m now informing you that the thing is now ‘on the shelf’ in the hopes that it will free up my mind to begin doing ANY kind of fic again.  
I hope you understand, and I hope to one day be able to delve down in this fandom again.  
Cheers for having followed/like/and so on.  
Aramir


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